


Work-Life Balance

by Oparu (USSJellyfish)



Series: Work-Life Balance [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26117452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSJellyfish/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: Melinda May has done her best to settle in to her life at the Academy. She has a great apartment, she sees Yo-Yo and Mack as much as she can and Daisy and Ftizsimmons are just a phone call away. Her students are great. Her job is fulfilling.Except, her apartment's way too quiet and she doesn't have any personal life to speak of and her weekends are empty. She has a plan to fill the void, but then Phil Coulson walks back into her life exactly as she remembers him from Tahiti.Maybe it is pretty magical after all.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Melinda May, Melinda May & Yo Yo Rodriguez, Phil Coulson & Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Series: Work-Life Balance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043040
Comments: 275
Kudos: 286





	1. Field Work 103 - you should have a life, even if you're a spy

**Author's Note:**

> Finale fix-it where I tired to give May a happy ending, and Coulson, and another Coulson and another May. 
> 
> Many thanks to Tina and Nicole for listening to me.

_ Field Work 103 - you should have a life, even if you're a spy.  _

Daisy and her team gave him the car keys to a newly upgraded Lola, his wallet, his SHIELD badge and a change of clothes. His former self had a very minimal go bag in the trunk and he'd need more clothes for the rest of the week. He could pick those things up at the new Headquarters, or the Academy and he began a list in his head. Last time he'd been back from the dead he'd had his apartment, just like he'd left it, this time...he had a car.

A really cool car. Maybe too cool. He wasn't entirely sure. 

The very new, very nice, Coulson Academy was certain to have a way to requisition supplies, or he could find a store. Stores existed, even if he felt like he hadn't walked into one in years. Well, that wasn't true, he'd gone into little corner stores, the tiny grocery store in Tahiti, which was a far cry from whatever huge monument to consumerism he'd have to enter for some more clothes here. 

Walking past his own name was weird, the statue was weirder still but at least it wasn't a painting, and at least it was fairly modern. It didn't really look like him in a way that kept him from behind here. Couldn't really walk around a building with your face on it and be subtle. Was that Melinda's doing? He saw her guidance in the layout, how the buildings were tactically arranged, how the grassy mall was large enough to land the Zephyr- a Zephyr, apparently there were more now. 

Daisy and Sousa (Daniel Sousa, the Daniel Sousa who was alive now) had filled him hin with as much as they could but he'd been fine for more than a year and the world had changed without him. 

She'd changed. Melinda is a professor now, just like they talked about, training the next generation. He can't think of anyone better, or a better place for her to be after all she's done in the field. She's not going to get hit in the face here and she is the best teacher he knows. It's good, and he's excited for her.

And maybe a little nervous. He just saw her, just held her while he fell asleep, apparently for the last time. Still not the most okay with that, but he's here now and she is and they'll make it work. 

He stops at the little cafe and guys a green tea and a coffee because he's still a little nervous and it's easier to meet her with something. 

Maybe he's stalling. He doesn't even know where her office is or her classroom and he's not sure if he has access. The other him did, the LMD and they're the same. Sort of. It'll be easier to find Melinda after he has coffee. 

"Hi, sorry, you're Professor May's husband, aren't you?"

He blinks. Husband? That's...new. He smiles over the cups as he puts their lids on. "Well, yes, that's right, how'd you know?"

"Your picture's in her office, sir." The cadet smirks a little, holding her books to her chest. "She said you're very busy but you might stop by someday."

"You know how it is, fieldwork." 

"I don't know yet, sir.." She tilts her head to the right. "I can walk you to her class, I have it next."

"That would be great, thanks." He follows her through the crowded corridors, moving through the students as if he's just another agent. Maybe a visiting professor. A lost husband. 

"What class is it next?"

"It's a fun one, sir. Interdepartmental introductory course, work-life balance for field agents. I'm just a first year cadet, but I heard Professor May insisted on it being added to the curriculum. Is that true?" 

It sounds like her,especially after all that's happened, but he has no idea. She's lived two years without him, been through hell, died-- She'd want new recruits to be safe. To look after themselves. 

"She worries." He winks because she'd kill him. "But I didn't say that. 

"Of course not, sir."

Wincing a little, he rounds the corner past more busy classrooms. Must be passing time. "I'm sort of retired, you don't have to use sir." 

"Sorry, sir. Everyone's a sir when you're first year." 

"I remember that." Several lifetimes ago.

"Here we go. Her office is over there in the tall building with the big windows, Victoria Hand Hall but we're going to Mockingbird Auditorium."

Phil has to smile at that. Bobbi was disavowed, with Hunter, but May found a way to honor her. He's going to have to get a map of campus and really look around, find all the little touches. "Great." 

"Do you want to let her know you're here? She's usually early if we have questions."

"Oh no, that's fine, you need your time for questions, I'll just sit in the back and surprise her at the end."

The cadet grins a little, her dark brown eyes soft with amusement. She reminds him a little of Akela Amador, same enthusiasm. "Nice."

"She loves surprises."

"Maybe from you, sir."

Chuckling, he watches the cadet walk down and join her friends taking out her notebook. The auditorium's filling up and there are more cadets near the front than the back, which he remembers from the classes with the more interesting professors. Of course May's incredible. She has to be, and the view's probably better down there. 

May's three minutes early, startling the cadets by coming in a side door. She has her hair up today, which along with the suit makes her exactly what he expects: hottest professor he's ever seen. The room quiets, everyone paying attention as she starts to talk. 

She's different, and he assembles a list of little changes as he listens to her explain why it's so important to have a home base, something you can return to. Maybe that's your parents, your sister, your cat-- something that's outside of SHIELD, because you can't let your work be your everything. You have to find your balance. 

They ask their questions and she answers them, calmly, with great patience. It's a whole room of Daisy's and junior FitzSimmons' ready to change the world, and they're all enthusiasm, all heart. She's reminding them to stay anchored, to keep something of themselves. 

"One last thing before you all disappear to your next class, I know this is difficult. I know you're buried in mock field reports, fitness training, computer training, flight simulator training and languages- it's all right to feel overwhelmed. You're training to save the world, and that's a hell of a thing."

It's good advice, and it wasn't standard when they went to the Academy. New Academy, new ideas. Some of the students crowd the front, surrounding her as class ends. He's a little jealous of them, getting to see her every day and listen to her wisdom. She has so much to give them, and it seems like they appreciate it. 

He saw her three days ago and it seems like a millenia. He fell asleep wrapped in her arms and woke up looking at himself. Kind of a downgrade in the view, really. The students ask their questions and move on and eventually it's just Melinda, standing in the pool of light at the bottom of the room. She takes his breath away, always does, and this time it's all her, not his heart dying inside of him. 

What does he say? How can he make up for the time she's been alone?

She looks up, shutting her briefcase, and she smiles and it's brighter than the spotlight. 

"Well, this is a surprise."

"Brought you some tea, professor." 

She circles the table at the front, heading up towards him. "I thought you were leaving--" 

"I just got back." He holds out the tea but she doesn't take it. Her hand doesn't move from her side. 

"Phil."

"Hi."

"It's you."

"Yeah."

She stops like she's been shot, dropping the briefcase with a muffled thud. 

He takes a step closer but maybe that's wrong. Maybe he's too close. Simmons said she had powers, is this it? He completely forgot.

He nearly drops her tea, but manages to set it down on the floor. Holding up his hands in surrender, he smiles a little. 

"Sorry."

"It's all right I--"

She doesn't look all right, she's too pale all of a sudden, concerned, her expression's so soft. 

"I'm so sorry May."

He touches her shoulder and she gasps, blinking.

"It's really you."

"It's complicated."

"I just saw you, you left you went--"

"To Zephyr Two, with my team. Well, his, team. That's another me."

"The LMD." She nods and her eyes are too bright. He wasn't prepared for her to tear up. Really, he wasn't prepared for any of it. How could he be? How could she? She watched him die. He fell asleep but for her, he died. She lived. 

"Sit, please." Melinda's the toughest person he knows but right this moment, she looks so unsteady. 

"I'm all right."

He guides her into one of the seats, kneeling beside her. "You're so pale."

"I wasn't expecting  _ you _ ." She takes a breath, grabbing his hand. "This you. You."

"Next time I'll try to stay dead." 

"No."

"I'm kidding."

She takes another breath, touching his face, his cheek. "It's too soon for that." 

He covers her hand with his, smiling. "I missed you."

"You missed me? Phil it's been years."

He moves her hand, kissing her palm. "I asked if I could come back earlier, stay with you in Tahiti, but the timeline--"

"Now is fine."

"I'm sorry."

She leans forward, resting her forehead against his with a sigh that aches. "You are so nervous, I could feel you all through class. Thought the poor cadets had an exam, but it was you." 

"You felt that?"

"And you. You feel so loudly." She rests her hand on his chest, covering his heart. She takes another breath and it's almost a sob. 

Phil focuses on his love. How much he missed her, how much he adored every moment in Tahiti. Melinda gasps, leaning into him, crying. 

"I love--"

"I know, it's all I can feel."

He wraps his arms around her, holds her close and time gives them a moment long overdue. Her tea's only lukewarm when she gets to drink it and he downs his coffee, wishing it was something stronger. 

He pulls his handkerchief from his pocket and daubs her face. "You're great at this."

"Its exhausting."

"You enjoy it."

"A little."

He starts to kiss her cheek, but she turns into it, finding his mouth and it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted. Phil swallows a joke about being hot for teacher. He'll have time for that later. 

"I hear this is your last class of the dary."

"It would be now."

He picks up her briefcase and offers his arm. "Let me buy you dinner, we've got a lot to catch up on."

"You have time for that?"

"I'm newly back from the dead, unemployed, living out of my car. I've got all the time in the world." 

"You can stay with me."

"I don't want to impose."

"You can't sleep in Lola, you'll ruin the leather." She meets his eyes and there's that little smile. He'd cross oceans and universes for that smile. 

"My couch is nice." 


	2. Interdisciplinary Field Work Seminar 105 - maintaining adequate nutrition while on assignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil wants to make dinner but Melinda's kitchen is really empty, so they get takeout and talk about how he got here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for enjoying this! It's so much fun to write them being their wonderful ridiculous selves.

_ Interdisciplinary Field Work Seminar 105 - maintaining adequate nutrition while on assignment  _

"You have one pan." 

"And a wok." Melinda sits at the counter in her kitchen, watching Phil lose his mind over a cup of tea. Her apartment's felt too big since she moved in. Too many years sleeping on planes and in bases. Once all she wanted was her own bed, now it's too big to have all this space.  


"A wok I can work with. Where is it?" 

"In the cupboard over the fridge, I think." 

He opens it up and takes it down. "Your dad brought this, didn't he?"

"He didn't want me to be totally stuck if I ever wanted to cook." 

"Then you have at least one good knife."

Melinda sips her tea, smirking over the cup. "I have great knives."

"Let me guess, they're barely used." 

"Like new."

Phil sighs from the fridge. "What have you been eating?"

"The cafeteria on campus is good."

"You made sure it was good."

"Can't have future agents distracted by terrible food."

"And you knew you'd eat there."

"It's so convenient."

He shakes his head, opening the drawer full of spare takeout chopsticks and tiny condiment packets she never throws away. "This is an impressive collection."

"I support local restaurants."

"I bet you're on a first name basis."

He looks through the fridge again and shakes his head. "It's hopeless. Pick your favorite local restaurant and get extra egg rolls, please." 

"Extra?"

He shrugs, resting his hands on the counter. "I'm hungry."

Picking up her phone, she dials and orders in Mandarin, it's the fastest, and Phil loves to pretend it annoys him. 

"Extra spicy?"

"All hot peppers, nothing else."

"Oh good." He opens the fridge again and takes out a beer. "At least you have decent beer."

She hasn't drank any of it in just about a month, but Yo-Yo and Mack like a beer when they visit. They were the last ones here. She never thought Phil would be here and her eyes sting again because he's in her kitchen. She's done crying, except she's absolutely not. 

"Can I look around?" 

"If you're done insulting my kitchen."

"Your kitchen is perfect. It's like the day you moved in."

Melinda watches him from the stool for a moment, then slips down, following him as he wanders around her apartment. She hasn't bothered to keep one since she joined their team. She had a room on each of the bases, a bunk on the planes, but having her own kitchen again is still strange, even after a year.  


Phil stays out of the bedroom, because he's too polite, and he ends up in the living room, touching her trinkets. It's not much, just some things that remind her of home: a few of her martial arts trophies her dad insisted she had to have, some pieces of Chinese art, some SHIELD stuff. He picks up her old SHIELD badge, then one next to it. 

Reading his own name on the back, he smiles. That spark of affection and longing glows in her mind like a lamp flicking on. "You kept it."

"You left me everything." 

"I did, but--" he trails off and his regret hits her like a gut punch. "I'm sorry."

She rests her hand on the door frame, just for a second. "It was fine. Your funeral was nice."

"Oh?" He strokes his old badge again and turns to her. 

She must be holding onto the door too tightly because concern rushes over her like warm water. Melinda takes a second, trying to center herself. He's worse than Daisy; his feelings crash into her mind. "

You okay?"

"I'm not used to you."

"Sorry."

"It's all right it's just-" she pauses, shuts her eyes. She's better at this. She's gotten fairly comfortable with her powers over time, but she hasn't had him thinking with his heart out in the open. Daisy's just as intense, but she's easier. "You're so loud."

"What can I do?" He crosses to her, hand out. When he touches her shoulder, it's calm. He's calm. 

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Still calm, as peaceful as a cloudless sky. Phil walks her over to the couch, guides her down and then disappears into the kitchen. Did he just need to help? His curiosity gleams like sunlight, but it's not as intense as his concern. 

"Daisy will think about something, she'll need a hug or think of something funny and I feel it. Sometimes I laugh before she can tell the joke or I hug her."

He hands her a cold glass of water and sits next to her. "You hug her?"

"Immediately." 

"I love that." He leans back, chuckling. "Melinda May, a hugger."

Him being smug is very grounding. Maybe because it's so familiar. She sips her water, trying to focus on the physical reality of her body. It's cold in her throat, and her chest. The condensation on the glass chills her fingers. 

"And your powers came from some other dimension?"

"It's not a nice place."

"Didn't sound like it." He stretches his arm out along the back of the couch and he's almost holding her. Not quite, because they're not like they were, but she spent so many days just wrapped in him in Tahiti that the idea of being able to touch him again is wonderful. 

"What's it like?"

"Overwhelming. Annoying."

"You don't hate it."

She hates that he knows that. "I don't. It's useful. Helped us beat the Chronicoms."

"I saw that. You're a badass when you use emotions."

"Very funny."

Brushing her shoulder, he slides his arm down when she leans into him. It's perfect, warm and comfortable and familiar and everything. He feels something similar, and it rushes over both of them. Maybe she sent it, sometimes it's hard to tell. 

She shuts her eyes and lets her memory drift back. It was a beautiful funeral. So much worse than the first one. "Everyone said nice things when you died. You didn't deserve all of them, especially what Daisy said, but we were together when we let you go." 

"That's what I hoped." He toys with her hair, fascinated with a lock of it. "I like your hair long."

"I've been too busy to--"

"You're beautiful." He kisses her forehead, holding her close. "May, I'm so sorry."

That regret washes up like a downdraft, sucking, tugging; cold and miserable. Her eyes sting. Maybe it's his. It's enough to make her head spin, though she's been a little sensitive lately. 

"You're here now." That calms him a little. She rests her head on his shoulder and his regret softens, lightens. 

"I am. Still doesn't seem real." His hand wraps into hers and it's the most real thing in her apartment. 

"Might not for awhile."

"I don't know, being back from the dead should be easy. I've done it a few times now."

"Other you died once too."

"Wow. Even the immortal me died?"

"He was being heroic." 

"I'd never do that."

"Course not." 

He nuzzles her hair, close enough that she can smell him and he's _him_ , from his heartbeat to the roughness of his palm against her hand. She takes a breath, and he's still here. 

"Your heart?"

"Hmm?" he turns, trying to catch her eyes. "My heart?"

"Is it all right?"

"Oh yeah, they did some tissue regeneration pod thing."

She runs her fingers over the back of his hand. "I was in that."

"After you got stabbed."

"That was unpleasant."

He kisses her forehead, seeking her and calming them both. "Daisy said it was rough."

Understatement. "You saw Daisy?" 

He nods, squeezing her hand. "First person I saw when I woke up." 

"Good."

"She's come into herself so much."

"Has her own team." His pride in Daisy warms her heart, mixing with her own. Staring at each other, they smile, easy, comfortable, and ridiculous at the same time. It's too easy to smile at him. Too familiar. 

"We've all come a long way."

"We have." 

He leans in, and that little frission of desire isn't her. That's him fantasizing about kissing her and it's the most arousing thing. In the moment before they kiss, she's entirely wrapped up in how he feels abut her leaning closer, her breath mingling with his. It's gentle, wistful, warm, and sweet and she's falling into the past. Maybe tumbling into the future because he's here, hers again, and he's whole. 

He sighs into her mouth, reaching for the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and they fall into it. Into each other. Her relief and love melts into his and it's harmony somehow. She could stay there, lips on his, tasting him, for the rest of the evening but her doorbell chimes.

"Food."

"Right." He pulls away, touching her chin. "I'll go grab it."

"Tell her I loved the mango sticky rice."

He smirks and nods. "Okay, exactly that."

She drags the coffee table over the sofa while he's getting the food and grabs some of her favorite chopsticks from the drawer. The ones in the blue wrapper are just nicer than the red ones and she saves them. Phil won't appreciate it and she takes out a fork and a spoon, just in case. Melinda sets down a beer for him and forces herself to drink the rest of her water.  Can't get dehydrated, even though it already feels like she has to pee more than normal, but that has to be in her head. 

"The very nice woman who delivered our dinner said you are welcome for the sticky rice and her mother gave you some special dessert since you had a friend over." 

"If you're lucky it's red bean buns, theirs are spectacular."

"I feel pretty lucky, all considered." Phil sets the bag down on the table and strokes her cheek. "It's been a neat day."

"Neat?"

"Peachy."

"Oh no, don't start quoting Sousa just because you were on a plane with him." 

."He's a SHIELD legend."

"You're a SHIELD legend," she reminds him, opening up the containers and passing him chopsticks. "You're the Academy namesake."

"Yeah, that's a little awkward."

She takes a bite and smiles. The food's almost as good as her father's. "You can just go around introducing yourself as Agent May, I hear we've gotten married."

"You heard that?" 

"A few students who came to office hours have been convinced you're my husband since the first quarter. I didn't correct them."

"Agent May, huh?" he jokes, grinning over his egg roll. 

"I'm a professor now, you can be Agent."

"I might try that out."

"Should cause less of a stir than 'Coulson'." 

"I know, really awkward being the guy who the whole place is named after."

"Works for Stark."

"If you're going to make a crack about my ego and his..."

She steals the last half an egg roll and chuckles. "Hadn't crossed my mind." 

"Uh huh."

"So tell me what happened with Daisy." 

"My resurrection?" 

"Yeah, you started and then you got distracted."

"Oh, I got distracted."

"You did."

"Shame on me," Phil teases. "I woke up on the Zephyr Three, which was kind of a trip because there was only one when we got off in Tahiti."

"They're working on a fourth."

"Good to know." He struggles with a slippery piece of broccoli and she grabs it with her chopsticks, feeding it to him easily. "Thanks." 

She brushes sauce from his lip and they lean closer and he stops her with a finger on her lips. 

"I can't tell you my story if we're going to be distracted." 

Admonished, she shakes her head and keeps eating. "Fine, no distractions." 

"Thank you, so I woke up in the tissue regeneration pod you mentioned, on Zephyr Three, with Daisy, Agent Sousa and Daisy's sister Kora, who was a fun new addition to this timeline."

"And they came to get you, but their ship doesn't have a time drive."

"Yeah, so the time drive they had to borrow from Fitz-"

"Who never wants anyone to use it."

"I heard it's very complicated." Phil takes a moment to eat, giving up on the chopsticks and using the fork. "The other me, which is weird, that's still weird for me, said there was something he had to make right. So he, another you-"

"Wait, another me?"

"Yeah, LMD you who blew up the playground."

That's a surprise, but nice, in a way. The other Phil won't be alone. "How'd they get her back?" 

"Printed her out, reuploaded her with Chronicom tech, I'm a little hazy on the details."

"Were you going to tell me?"

Phil gives her his best innocent smile. "I just did."

"Great."

"So the techy version of us helped Daisy and her team grab me from the beach in Tahiti--"

Where he died, looking at the stars with her on a blanket, one beautiful clear night when he fell asleep and just...stopped. She nearly drops her chopsticks at the memory and sets them down, reaching for her water. 

"We were looking at the stars. It was a dark moon and it was so beautiful."

"And I--"

She finishes when he trails off. Her voice almost too soft. "I fell asleep first so I don't know when, but yeah, you were gone before the sun came up."

He takes a long sip of his beer, then reaches over to rest his hand on her knee. "I remember that night, you were so beautiful asleep in the starlight. I could have watched you forever."

So that was it. His last thought on Earth was about her. Her eyes sting and she grabs one of the paper napkins. 

"Hey." His surge of concern sends her over and her tears run hot. "I'm sorry."

"It was beautiful. It was the best time of my life and then you--"

He kisses her cheek, then the other, nuzzling her tears away. "This is why I had to come back. We deserved more time."

"They said that?"

"Daisy did, and FitzSimmons, Mack signed off on the mission. Everyone, including us, now that I think about it. Absolutely everyone thinks we should give ourselves some more time."

"What are the other us going to do?"

"Take a team on Zephyr Two, see the galaxy. Keep each other safe."

She leans into his shoulder and sighs, only half joking. "Sounds exhausting."

"Doesn't it?" Phil finishes his beer and sets down the empty bottle. "Space is beautiful, sure, but there's a point where you just want to settle down and order from the same Chinese restaurant three times a week."

"They're good to me."

"I know, they sent these." He holds up a red bean bun and grins. "Apparently you should date more."

Melinda winces. "Don't you start."

"I heard--"

"Oh, I know what you heard. I hear it every Friday if I order for one."

They laugh as she pretends to steal a bite of his bun, then they're too close again, nearly touching and this time he tastes like red bean and Elena's good beer and forever doesn't seem like enough time to keep him here with her. 

"Stay, please." 

"Okay." 

He cleans up, tucking leftovers away into her nearly empty fridge while she watches him from the sofa. He refills her water, fussing without even thinking about it and settles down next to her, His arm slips naturally around her and she curls in, legs up on the sofa. 

"Daisy said they grabbed from from the moment I died and replaced me with a genetically identical corpse."

"You were cremated so that should be fine."

"Hopefully the timeline's intact. Thanks to Kora and some magic hand thing--"

"Her powers are impressive, and useful, now that she's on her side."

"You'll have to tell me that story," he asks.

Melinda yawns into her hand. "Remind me." 

"We have time."

She curls in closer, shutting her eyes. "We do."

"What a gift."

"We deserve it."

He kisses her forehead, then lifts her hand to kiss her fingers. "We really do." 

She falls asleep there, not intending to. He's probably still talking, and she's so tired. 

"You should go to bed."

"I should get things for you and the couch." She starts to sit up, yawning again and he rubs her back.

"I'm sure I can find sheets."

"The guest bedroom is made up."

"I saw, it's Daisy's, but thanks."

Technically it is a guest room, but Daisy does have her Earthly possessions all over it because she didn't want to keep an apartment. 

"It's a nice couch." 

She scoffs and shakes her head. "Come sleep with me, it's not like we--"

"Right." He swallows hard but stands, offering her a hand up. "I'll turn down the bed then, you brush your teeth."

"Yes dear."

He pauses, grinning, and with him in it her apartment's more like home than it's ever been. When he crawls into bed next to her, smelling like her toothpaste, it's almost the most content she's been since the sand and the waves. 

Except this is endless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's a perfect ending for LMD Phil and LMD Melinda (from s4) to get to see the galaxy together, They'll probably make a cameo towards the end of the story because it's not really their story, but they're happy. they have each other and a whole lot of good to do.


	3. Espionage 218 - the Dance Elective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda and Phil attend a fancy fundraiser, which has dancing, which isn't that terrible. They also get to see Mack and Yo-yo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for your support!! I'm thrilled you're enjoying this. It's a blast to write.

_ Espionage 218 - the Dance Elective _

He makes her breakfast, which involves running out for bagels, but she sleeps in, contented and calm. She slept better in Tahiti than he's ever seen her to, so maybe it's just being free from the encroaching danger. Nothing's coming to get them. There's no giant conspiracy out there waiting to destroy the world, just classes and field reports, seminars and exams. 

Mack, Director Mack, said he can do some recruitment, when he's up for it. Phil's read the file a few times. Part-time, very flexible, based at the Hub which is right near the Academy. Very short drive, shorter still in Lola. Sounds ideal if he wants to stay involved. There are plenty of things to do at the Academy too. May has a full course load, plus extra fitness training classes, and she's mentoring the newest crop of SOs in the field. Just looking at her calendar is headache worthy. No wonder she doesn't have anything in her fridge. 

That morning Phil lets her eat her bagel in the car on the way into campus, even though usually eating in Lola is strictly forbidden. He didn't have the heart to wake her, especially when she'd shut off her own alarm three times. Must be making up for years of lost sleep, or teaching exhausts her in a way flying the Bus and saving the world did not. 

After he drops her off, he spends the morning in kitchen stores, and then buying his own clothes. He has one bag, and a handful of old stuff in storage in Wisconsin, but he keeps dying and leaving the planet and getting his suits blown up. It's frustrating because he had some nice suits, some books that had that great old book smell. 

May emails him the invite to the Congressional Security Committee fundraiser that she has to attend tonight, because she's one of the most respected professors at the Academy. Also, she's gorgeous, and Mack likes how much that distracts people. 

It'll be a long night of mediocre drinks, passable hors d'oeuvres and terrible conversation. The dancing might be all right. Maybe he can sneak May off to look at some of the art because he's always liked the National Potrait Gallery, and the courtyard's really something to see. She'll fit right in at an art museum. 

He has to use SHIELD resources to get good black tie at the last minute, but he knows a guy who's pretty quick and he just has to look good enough to be with May. She probably has some absolutely stunning dress and he keeps losing his train of thought as he's buying spices, imagining how she'll look. He's far enough away that she can't feel his particular emotions right this moment, hopefully. Didn't ask what the range was, and it seems like it's different with him. 

Mack got them dinner reservations, and it's not really double date, but it's Mack, Yo-yo, Melinda and him, which is basically the double date set up. Maybe it is. Maybe it's just really good friends with a lot of history. Getting to see them again is wonderful, but he's a little nervous. 

Putting pots and pans away as he rearranges Melinda's kitchen helps him think. She has whole cabinets that just sit empty until he adds measuring cups, mixing bowls, and a coffee maker. One of the perks of never being able to be out in public is that he has years of salary just sitting in his bank account. Melinda doesn't need a stand mixer, but he does. 

Because he's moving in. Well, moved in to be fair. His new toothbrush sits right next to hers and there's plenty of closet space when he has clothes. He's just got the utensils right by the stove when Melinda texts. The day has flown by; it's already four, her last class just ended. 

She's running late, students need help. They're supposed to be at the restaurant at five thirty which doesn't give her much time to get ready. He gets dressed in his tuxedo, smirking at the cufflinks. He loves when he gets to wear them because they're such a classy, old school kind of touch. He throws his tie around his neck, but doesn't tie it yet. Melinda does it better. 

He grabs her dress, makeup, jewelry, hairpins, hairspray- collecting the arsenal it'll take to get her ready for black tie. Not that she needs it. She could go in a t-shirt, but this is a fancy politician charming thing. Carrying her dress in a garment bag and the rest of her things in a duffel, he parks Lola outside her office and heads in. 

There are still students in the hall, most of them dressed as waiters and it clicks. They're going undercover. Melinda's sending some her students undercover to the fundraiser for practice. Smart. They'll be catering a lot in the field. No one really pays attention to the hands serving the food. 

They talk between themselves, but part when he arrives. Melinda's all the way down the hall, at the heart of their group, explaining how to swap champagne flutes in order to get fingerprints and DNA. 

"Professor May, your husband's here," one of the cadets calls down the hall. 

"That's right, dear," he says, beaming. Might as well roll wih it. "I think I have everything."

"Great, I'm sorry, we got carried away, okay, I'll see you tonight, remember, when you're undercover, you're invisible, so don't impress anyone, not Director Mack, and definitely not me."

They laugh and Phil has to smile. She's pretty hard to impress. He sets her dress on the desk and pulls the blinds while the students leave them. Melinda pulls off her blazer and starts unbuttoning her shirt. 

"How much time do we have?"

"Slightly less than half an hour, which is plenty, you're already beautiful."

"Not black tie beautiful."

She sighs, dropping her bra to the desk and he has to swallow. He will never get over how beautiful she is, and it's been a terrifying constant in his life for decades. 

"Let me help you with the dress." He gently removes the black and gold dress from the garment bag. He shakes it out, opening the clasps while she changes her underwear and pulls on her stockings. 

"Okay, let me get this over your head." The complicated straps cross high on her chest and leaves her back bare. He whistles as it slips into place. "I think this is better than the sequins."

"Oh?" She starts pinning up her hair, smiling. "It's more comfortable."

"Your breasts make the dress look great."

Melinda laughs. "I thought you'd like it." 

He sits on her desk, handing her pins as she puts her hair up. He holds up a handful and looks over the pictures on her desk. "These are nice, Daisy, FitzSimmons and Alya, don't know if that's the best picture of me."

"I've always liked that one." She titls her head towards the hairspray and he hands it over. 

"I look too stern."

"You are stern."

"Me?" He takes the hairspray and hands her the eyeliner, holding it while she yawns into her hand. "Couldn't fit a nap in, huh?"

"I slept at lunch."

"Good plan, these things always go so late." 

Melinda sighs, shaking her head. "I know." 

"Lipstick,"

"Give me that first." He looks, following her hand. A abandoned mug of coffee sits on her desk. 

"You hate coffee."

"It's vile, but it keeps me awake."

"Well, it's definitely worse cold and without anything in it."

"Just hand it to me, Phil." She shuts her eyes and swallows it, grimacing. He's seen children make that face when they've been told to eat brussel sprouts. 

"You hate it."

"I hate falling asleep at dinner more."

He touches her shoulder. "This is hard. You're carrying a lot. Don't push yourself beyond your limits."

"Tomorrow's an easy day, no lectures, just seminar, and it's in the afternoon."

"I'll make waffles."

"And no coffee."

"None, for you." 

She laughs, finishing her lipstick. "What earrings did you bring?"

"These matched the best."

"I would have gone with the gold."

"The dress is more bronze."

"Oh I see."

"These bring out your eyes more."

"Yes, that's what you've been looking at. My eyes." She toys with his hand, smiling. 

"Exactly." He rests his gaze on the exquisite display of her breasts, then looks up, 

She leans in, kissing him lightly. "You still can't tie these."

"I have you." 

The next kiss is a little deeper, hungrier, and they don't have time. Mack and Yo-yo will be at the restaurant in a few minutes ad they're already pushing it, even with Lola. Flying through DC isn't exactly subtle. The cloaking will help but--

Melinda finishes tying his bow tie and pats his chest. "Shoes."

He sets them up and she steps into her impossibly high heels, holding on his shoulder. 

"Ready?"

She takes another moment, taking a breath. "I still don't understand how you drink that every day."

"It grows on you."

"Like a tumor." 

He rests his hand on her bare back, chuckling. "Exactly, a delicious, caffeinated tumor." 

* * *

Mack and Yo-yo are waiting for them at the table, already laughing over their drinks.

"Sorry, parking is terrible." 

"Our quinjet is on the roof," Yo-yo says, getting up to hug Melinda. "You look amazing."

"Doesn't she?" 

"You don't look too bad yourself," Mack says, getting up to shake his hand. They stare, take hands and then hug. He didn't think he'd see Mack again, or Yo-yo or...anyone, and here they are. Mack pats Melinda's shoulder and Yo-yo pulls out her chair. 

"Sit, eat, we don't have that much time before we have to talk to the boring people." 

"Thanks, sorry--"

"She had cadets swarming her office."

"All ready for tonight?"

"They're some of my best, about half of the catering team are future agents. Tell me how many before the night's over and I'll buy dinner next time." 

Mack lifts his glass, grinning. "Oh you're on."

Yo-yo leans forward, elegant in a dark blue dress, with her hair down in waves. Mack's pocket square complements her dress and they look fantastic together. The way they talk, laughing, filling in each other's stories, they're happy. It's good to see. This time has been good for them. 

The food arrives a few minutes later, concerned for time, Mack and Yo-yo ordered, and it smells incredible. Melinda yawns into her hand again and flags down the server for tea instead of wine. 

"They might have coffee."

"Oh no, one is my limit." 

"You had coffee?" Yo-yo asks over her naan bread. "The Academy's that bad, huh?" 

"It's disgusting but it keeps me awake." 

"I'm gone for a little while and look how things change." It's a poor joke but Melinda's little smile has forgiveness in it. 

"It felt a little long." She reaches across, squeezing his hand. 

"It's nice to have you back." Mack digs into the chicken. "This is incredible."

Melinda sets down her fork and reaches for her tea. "It's hard to get reservations here, but my mom likes it."

"Do they do take out?" Phil passes her one of the sauces and she gives him that look. "May's a connoisseur of take out." 

"Very funny."

"Do they? This is near the Hub, I'd love this for lunch."

"Places like this don't do take out," Yo-yo says, pointing at her napkin. "Real napkins, fancy silverware."

Mack shakes his head, wiping his mouth. "We'll have to find a way to get them to make an exception."

"Use those director perks." Phil jokes, meeting Melinda's gaze. 

"What director perks?' The server hands Mack the check and Yo-yo chuckles.

"There's a perk."

"I asked for this." Mack waves the check at them. "I know how hard it is to live on an academic's salary."

Phil titls his head towards Melinda. "You should see how empty her apartment was, couldn't afford anything in the kitchen."

"I am funny, I'm the director." He hands over a card and they reluctantly leave their seats. 

Phil offers Melinda his hand to get to her feet, touching her bare back as they head for the door. Her skin's warm and smooth under his hand and she allows it to remain there. The clouds overhead are dark and heavy, and the air smells like rain. The gallery's only a quick walk, and it almost feels like old times. Very fancy old times. 

At the door he hands over their IDs from Melinda's purse. Hers is a little worn, and his brand new. Billy did good work on it. They head through security, have their retinas scanned and fingerprints checked. Eventually they end up at another table, and two of Melinda's students bring them drinks. 

She takes a sip, then sets her glass down. "Well, lets get it over with"

"It?"

"You're going to make me dance."

He listens to the orchestra and smirks. "That's a waltz." 

Melinda holds out her hand, reaching for his and smiling. "Do you want to wait for a tango?"

"Are you just using me to avoid Senator Ellis?"

"You caught me." She leans in, brushing her lips agains his ear. "Also, my students are watching."

"So we're making your students uncomfortable?"

"If they're watching us dance, they're not watching other things."

"I'd be watching you."

She glances down at her chest and her smile brightens. "I know what you'e watching."

Dancing with her is easy, comfortable. She'll have to talk to senators and congresspeople, be charming, talk about the Academy, but for now, and maybe the next dance, he can hold her. 

The next song is a tango and she rolls her eyes, but she remembers the steps. Her muscle memory's always been incredible. She leads him into a dip near some of her students and she's right, they're watching them, not observing the room. 

"How are you going to get them to stop watching us?"

"We'll talk about it in seminar."

"That sounds fun."

"You should come, it's my most interesting class." Melinda wraps her leg around the back of his and executes another dip. She's so good at it. The bonus for him is that he gets to hold her, tight and close and it's too bad that can't last all night. 

Eventually he has to surrender her to Mack, and a few senators. He gets one song to dance with Yo-yo, who tells him all about her team: Piper and Davis, and her adventures. She finds time for Mack too, and they seem happy.

"She needed you back," Yo-yo says over his shoulder, smiling at Melinda. "She said she was happy, but this is happy."

"What was she before?"

"Busy." Yo-yo twirls out and then back to him. "Really busy."

"She's still busy." 

"But now at least you can cook for her." 

"Yeah."

"Which makes you happy."

"It's such a little thing."

"Not little." Yo-yo walks with him back to the table, reaching for her champagne while Phil scans the crowd for Melinda. "Mack fixes my car when I'm home, worries about my motorcycle, tunes the engine. You cook."

"Melinda's a terrible cook."

"And I never remember when my car needs an oil change. Love brings us people who look after what we can't. May did that for you, for years. Maybe now you switch." 

"Yeah?" He finishes his drink. 

"You love her."

"I do."

"And she's happier now, today, than I've seen her in years, maybe ever." 

Melinda walks towards them, smiling, free of the last lobbyist who wanted something. She walks past one of the caterers, must be a student because she walks straight up to him and kises him like the world is ending thirty seconds from now, or they're being shot at. He nearly stumbles back but it's too wonderful to be pressed against her. 

Yo-yo laughs and leaves them to it. 

"Hi," he whispers, catching his breath. 

"My students are easily distracted."

"They like you."

Melinda rolls her eyes and he loves her so much in this instant. She's supervising all of these cadets, making them better agents, saving the world one showy kiss at a time.    
"They like my stories."

"May, you're an incredible teacher."

She sighs, shutting her eyes. She kisses his cheek then rests against him, her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just, thank you." 

He strokes her cheek. "It's good to be back."

"You didn't even know you were gone." Her voice is light but her eyes hold so much more. 

"I see it." He holds her face, staring at her, drinking her in. She's been through so much and she's still here, powerful, beautiful and so resilient. "I'm sorry."

"You always come back."

He laughs and she kisses him again. She pushes him back towards the table, scandalizing the students, maybe part of Congress. She's worth it. 

"I love you," he whispers into her hair, running his hand down her spine. 

* * *

The sky's opened up while they've been in the gallery, and the rain drums on the glass roof. It's late, and the last stragglers at the party are drunk and headed home in a line of cabs. Lola's only a block away but the storm's rolled in hard. Lightning flashes overhead and the heavy humidity's erupting into drenching rain.

"Stay here, I'll bring the car," he offers.

Melinda shakes her head. She reaches down, holding his arm for balance as she takes off her shoes. She sighs, even wavers a little. 

Phil shrugs off his tuxedo jacket, passing it to her. "Here."

"I'm fine."

"So am I."

Melinda rolls her eyes again but takes it, wrapping herself in his coat. 

"There could be broken glass." 

"You want to carry me?"

"I--"

"It's fine, Phil." She offers her arm and together they walk out into the rain. 

The air's still warm and the rain crashes down cool over them. They walk quickly, arm in arm, and it's too loud to talk but thy don't need too. She remembers being a student, when they were cadets together, all the moments that got them to here. They climb into Lola, soaking wet, laughing as the rain patters on the roof. He starts the car and the windows fog as they dry. 

Melinda leans back in her seat, eyes closed. "That was better."

"See, you do like dancing."

"It's all right with you."

He heads through the nearly empty streets, making his way back to her apartment. "And mortifying your students."

"Now that was fun."

"I love your sense of humor." 

"You love a lot of things about me." 

"Your hair. Your breasts. The way you talk in your sleep."

She doesn't, and she can't remind him of that because she is asleep. He pats her knee in her soaking wet dress and drives them home. 

The garage at her apartment is out of the rain and she remains asleep as he shuts off the car. Circling to the passenger side, he bends, straightens his back and lifts her up.

She murmurs, waking a little as they move through the elevator and then the hall. 

"Are you being chivalrous?"

"I was trying to let you sleep."

Melinda slips from his arms, regaining her feet in the hall as he takes out her keys. "That was kind."

"You're doing a lot."

"I know."

"Let me help."

"I am, aren't I?" She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. "I'll let you take the pins out of my hair."

"Okay." He guides her to a chair, pulling the hairpins out of her wet hair while she smiles at him, nearly falling asleep again at the table. He guides th =e dress off her shoulders, then takes her earrings. "Come on. Time for bed." 

He strips off his own wet clothes in the bathroom. Leaving them on the floor before crawling into bed next to her. 

"I love you," she whispers, curling into his chest. "You're warm."

Chuckling, he holds her close. "Glad to be of service." 


	4. Interdisciplinary Seminar 209 - Working in Partnerships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've been friends for years but only got to be a couple for weeks before he died last time. How do they move forward as partners?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all your support and comments, it means the world to me that you're enjoying this. I'm having so much fun writing it. 
> 
> (and this chapter is why I had to rate it mature)

_ Interdisciplinary Seminar 209 - Working in Partnerships _

Her apartment smells like waffles when she wakes up. Phil's gone to the kitchen to cook, and the other side of the bed is cool. She leaves the bed naked, grabbing her robe from the closet. Phil's standing over a waffle iron that was not in her apartment yesterday, coffee in hand. He smiles at her in his pajamas, hair ruffled, wearing his glasses. 

"Morning."

"You weren't kidding about waffles."

"They're fun."

"They smell good." 

He circles the island, touching her shoulder. "Sleep okay?"

"It's nice, having you here."

"Because I'm warm?"

"And you cook." She turns into his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck. "I'm used to you already."

"I'm not going anywhere." 

She kisses him, because then she doesn't have to talk. He always leaves. He doesn't want to, but he dies on her. Now he's back and they're really not in dangerous places but- does he want to stay? Can they really do this? They're good at being friends, partners, but they only ever got to be together for a few weeks in Tahiti. That was without jobs, without family, without anything to worry about except each other. Of course that worked. She couldn't mess it up. 

Phil strokes her cheek. "Hey, so, which of us is anxious?"

"What?"

"There's a knot in my stomach like a ice ball."

"Must be the coffee." 

He holds her hands, walks her to the table. "Sit, have some tea. What is it?"

"This is great."

"It is." Phil takes a moment, staying into her eyes. "And that bothers you."

Melinda wraps her hands around her tea, staring at the empty plates he's already set. "We don't get great."

"We do, we did, Tahiti--"

"Was wonderful until you died."

"I'm not dying now." 

He's not. He's healthy, whole. There's color in his face and he carried her up from the garage. He could barely stand at the end. He's fine. He could stay. They could really be together, get married, go to the movies and grovery shop and spend decades together. 

They could, but they're still them. They're not really good at domestic, staying in one place or relationships. Between them they have more than a handful of failed loves, almost including each other. 

She shouldn't say it, but she does. "But you died. I watched."

He winces, reaching across the table to touch her hand. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, starting to take a sip of her tea, then stopping. It's not fair to blame him, but he is him. He made the same choices. "It's not even the dying, I got through that. It's that you chose."

Phil pulls his hand back and that hurt. She can feel the little cracks, like ice. "I had to."

She should be better than this, but he's wrong. "You didn't."

"Wait a sec." He heads to the kitchen and returns, dropping a hot waffle onto her plate. Phil pushes the butter and syrup towards her, and points at the berries. "Eat while you yell at me."

"I'm not yelling."

"Maybe you should, might feel better." He takes a bite of his own and smiles, all gentle, apologetic. She can feel his remorse well up inside of him, and the affection beneath it. He loves her, and it's bright, almost too much so, like the sun over the clouds and she can't protect herself. 

"You chose to die."

"Daisy needed to save the world."

She stares at her fork, then her hands, and looks up. "I don't care." 

He nearly drops his own fork, eyes widening. "Oh?"

"I would have let the world crumble to save you."

Phil takes a breath, and her frozen knot of anxiety melts with his, twisting her stomach. "I know."

"Do you? Do you really know? I would give up everything for you." She would have let the planet crumple like wet paper if she got to keep him with her. That's terrifying. She's trained her life to save people. To serve, to give of herself until there's nothing left, but some part of her drew the line at him. She can make peace with Katya's death in Bahrain. She can grieve for Andrew and move on, but she can't face a universe without Phil Coulson. 

He toys with his napkin, twisting it in his hands. "You're too good for me."

"No."

"You are."

"Phil--"

He leaves his chair, circles the table and leans on it, right beside her. "You chose me, you always chose me. I don't."

"You don't have to, you shouldn't." She doesn't deserve that. Happiness is too fleeting for her, always has been. These beautiful days are going to leave, he's going to leave. She only has herself and people she looks after. That's all she's allowed. 

"Hey. If we're going to do this, us, I want to do it right. You and me, not for weeks, but for years, decades, I want to see your hair go grey, finally, at ninety." 

He's still too nerdy for her, except it's perfect, because if he was serious, she wouldn't be able to smile now. 

He doesn't know what he's asking. She can't look at him, because her eyes will give everything away. If she hasn't already radiated her worries through him. "It might not be that simple."

Slipping down, he kneels in front of her, hands on her lap. "Let's try it. You and me, for as long as we have."

"This feels like a proposal."

"Maybe. A little." He blushes a little so it wasn't what he meant but there's hope in his chest. That sings out through her so loudly that he might as well say it. 

"Do you want to?"

He kisses her hand and stands up, kissing her forehead as well before returning to his chair. "Kind of. Should do it better."

"Give me a few days?"

"That's not no."

He would always get a yes, and she smiles, weary and hopeful, almost dizzy with love. "It's not no."

"Okay then." Phil centers himself, and something in him finds a home. His resolve soothes her. There's a confidence- no- a choice. This time, now, when they don't have to save the world, now he can choose them. Her. "Should we talk about something else?"

She points with her fork at her plate, taking another bite. Talking around the waffle in her mouth, she smiles. "These are good."

"Better than take out?"

"I've never tried the Academy's waffles."

"Sneak some home and we'll compare."

"The company's better here."

"Good." He gets up again and returns with another waffle, setting it on a plate between them. 

"How many people are you cooking for?"

"They freeze."

Melinda nods. "You're staying long enough to start filling my freezer?"

"Frozen pizza and ice cubes isn't really enough."

"I think I have some pork buns."

He tears the waffle in half and adds half to her plate. "Eat."

"Phil, they really are good."

"Took me forever to get the recipe right."

"Oh?"

"It's all about egg whites, finding the right balance, but the first few times you try it just says 'fold them in' and that's not helpful."

"It doesn't sound helpful."

"You'd fold them like a shirt, wouldn't you?"

"Or a towel. My laundry skills are fine."

"Your laundry skills have never been in doubt."

"I'm glad you can give me credit somewhere."

"Your linen closet is impeccable."

"Thank you." 

He clears her plate, but lingers, touching her shoulder. She sighs, content, even in the pit of her stomach. He might have something more permanent than just allowing the Academy to think they're married in mind, but he'll wait. He's never quick with things, so a few days could easily be weeks. That's fine. This is all right. If they're going to choose each other, they should do it when most things have been said. 

Tugging him down by his pajama shirt, she kisses him, deep and slow. This they don't have to wait for. She has time this morning and for once she's not wishing desperately for a nap. Phil sets the plate down on the far side of the table, giving his full attention to what she's doing to his mouth. 

"Well, good morning," he teases, catching his breath. 

"It is." Melinda leaves her chair, opening her robe a little over her chest and pulling his hands to her hips. He strokes her skin through the thin fabric, running his hands up towards her waist while he looks at the table. The sensible thing to do is drag him back to the bedroom and tear off his pajamas, but it's a sturdy table. She takes a step back, pressing her thighs against the wood.

"Here?"

"You want to wait?"

He lifts her up, setting her on the table as he opens her robe as if unwrapping something precious. His rush of arousal brings color to his face and settles hot between her thighs. He wants, she needs, she demands, he offers: it all spins in her head. Colors and sensations, chaotic, desiring-- holding onto his shoulders helps keep her head from spinning and the sensation frustrates her. She's been lightheaded hundred of times, usually because she's bleeding, but this time she doesn't have that to blame.

"You okay?"

She hums in response, pulling him closer with her legs behind his back. 

His thumb brushes her cheek and he kisses her again, too gentle. "Suppose it's too easy to figure out what I'm thinking now." 

"I have a few ideas."

His thin pajamas leave very little to the imagination, and they're definitely sharing the same heat, even if her head's struggling to connect to the rest of her. 

"Should we?" he starts to ask, sliding his fingers up her bare thighs. 

"What?"

"Are you- birth control--"

She kisses his neck, making it impossible for him to finish a thought, let alone keep asking if they need to be careful. "You can't get me pregnant right now."

He rubs his thumb over her thigh, staring at little, pausing, and she sighs, tilting her hips closer to his hand. That distracts him. Phil toys with her a few moments longer, not touching but close, so close that the heat of his hand taunts her. He distracts her with kisses, with his tongue on her breasts, but she wants and he's ready and they touch, deepen, melt--

She grabs his back, digging her fingers into his muscles, tugging him close, rocking her hips against his. 

She moans, sighing into her skin. "I missed--" 

He doesn't let her finish, and she loves that about him. He slips within, full, hot, familiar. Nodding, she arches her back towards him, head spinning with pleasure instead of the other thing. He guides her thighs closer to the edge of the table, parts her legs, shifts the angle and there- fuck-- his hand dances over her clit, teasing, promising and it's quick, but it's been forever and days and being in contact was so necessary that it ran over their skin like static. His rising orgasm heats her neck, pulsing through her while he thrusts. 

She gasps, panting, teetering on the brink of her control. It's too soon, but he's so close she can taste his release and they've been orbiting each other, growing closer like missiles. They needed this.

She crashes and he groans and she tightens, holding him until he thrusts again, the orgasms. Her teeth tingle as her blood rushes hot, filling all of her, even the foggy corners of her brain. He holds her close, letting her slump against him while she catches her breath.

"You're incredible."

Kissing his neck, then his shoulder, she creeps back to his mouth. "We can do better."

"Do we need more practice?"

"Just like cooking, I imagine."

"Imagine is right."

She glares, then drops her robe to the table and slips off, walking naked towards the bedroom. "I can let you imagine by yourself if you'd rather."

"Practical experience might be more fun."

"Then get your clothes off, Phil." 

He meets her in the doorway to her bedroom, catching her waist. He kisses her neck, then down her shoulders, moving her hair out of the way. "I remember wanting to do this in Tahiti."

"You did."

"It wasn't the same." He runs his hands over her hips, teasing. "I couldn't pick up you up and put you on the table."

"That was nice."

Phil kisses her, insistent, hungry, wanting, and she melts into him. He's half-hard again against her stomach, and he'll need time. Her head's a little foggy, but it's so much better than being exhausted that she can't explain. Maybe not up against the wall this time. 

She leads them towards the bed, letting his hands wander her skin while they kiss. He has so much more strength than Tahiti, and there's nothing to fear. No waiting darkness for them. They can take their time, enjoy it. There's no bitter. 

"I'm going to need a few minutes."

"I'm sure you can find some way to entertain yourself." She leads him to the bed, tugging him back. He starts to sit, but she shakes her head. "You can be on top."

Phil's eyes widen. "You're always--"

"You're special." 

"Oh I am?" He's teasing but her heart trembles. He's everything. She loves him, and being in love, letting go is so hard. She doesn't deserve it. She can't-- Believing is so hard for her and so easy for him. 

Phil's hand runs down her stomach, stroking lower, delicate and playful. "I can think of a good way to pass some time." 

"That's why you're special." 

He brushes her breast with his other hand, toying with her nipple. They're a little heavy, even sore. Does he feel that? Did she share it? He softens, turning his focus downward. He guides her onto the bed. "Sit." He parts her legs, kissing her inner thigh while she runs her hand through his hair. 

Phil glances up at her breasts, kissing her chest once before parting her thighs. Has he noticed they're different? He spent so much time with them... she can't worry about that. He's here and they shouldn't waste this time before she has to go to work. She puts the thought away, focusing on Phil and this moment. He adored making her orgasm in Tahiti, leaving her gasping while they waited for him to recover. It wasn't minutes there. He was tired. 

Now he's full of life. 

He kisses his way up, opening her up with his fingers before he finds her clit with his tongue. She moans, panting while he slips his fingers inside. He curls them up, in, sliding deep because she's so wet, wanting. 

"Phil--" She digs her hands into his hair, pulling him closer, trying to get him rougher, more pressure, but he's a tease. He softens his tongue and she could flip him away and finish it herself.

Or wait. Tremble. Beg. 

"Please." 

He sucks, brushing her clit against his chin, his lips and sparks rush behind her eyes. Pleasure builds, threatening, taunting- can she share it with him? Can she hold it back? Control slips from her, falling away and he knows, so he slows his hand, he licks instead of sucking and without the pressure it's like she's lost the air in the room.

"Dammit, Phil, please."

Harder, tighter, closer- he's such a tease. He loves that. He wants her to beg. She rocks closer and he pushes her back. One hand runs down her chest, squeezing her breasts, running his palm over her stomach. His hand inside curls a little deeper, rougher and her head spirals. He sucks again, hot and sweet and she twists her hands in the sheets, arching her back.

He pauses.

Of course.

"If you stop now I will kill you."

And she could, in several quick ways, slow ways, but he knows better. He likes the brink, the begging, the tension. This time, she can share it with him. Project her desire, desperation, longing, that maddening--

Orgasm hits hard, rushing up from her belly, blooming hot behind her eyes. Melinda might share that too, she's not sure how her abilities work with such things. His eyes are dark when she opens hers, and he strokes her cheek, kissing the sweat from her forehead. He pulls back but she tugs him in. He'll give her a minute, bring her water, hold her--

Or he could take her again, press her into the mattress, fill her. She opens her thighs, wraps her legs around his, pulls him over her. 

"Melinda--" 

"It's all right."

"I can feel you." He kisses her, resting on his elbows. "It's incredible."

"You were incredible."

"I was, wasn't I?" He smirks, lowering his hand to slip his cock inside of her. 

Her body's still trembling from the last, but she can control that, pull him in. Her teeth tingle and he's heavy over her, hot inside. He thrusts, brightening the stars behind her eyes. She arches into him, tilting her hips, letting him take her deep, He moans, panting in her neck. She digs her fingers into his back, holding him close, pulling him in, sharing that wanting- needing- completeness. 

Melinda focuses on her affection, her love, her desire, and lets him feel it. She drops her control and meets his eyes, pouring her soul into him, heart and body. For a second they breathe as one, overlapping before they crash. He orgasms, hot and deep, and she laughs, moaning and content

"That's a hell of a thing," he says, breathless in her arms. "That's what it feels like for you?"

"Just with you."

"Melinda-" 

"You're the only one who've I've been able to share that with." 

"It's intense."

"You okay?" 

He laughs, kissing her forehead. "You'll have to give me more than a minute."

Curling into him, she sighs, closing her eyes. "I have class in an hour, meetings after that."

Phil toys with her hair. "That's a lot."

"This is my slow day." She snuggles in, taking the time she has.

"It's a lot."

"Yes."

"Are you all right?" He asks so sweetly that her chest aches. 

"Tired."

"I've never seen you this tired, and I've seen you during three week deep over assignments where no one slept."

"We were younger." 

"We're not that old."

Phil chuckles. "Speak for yourself."

"Hey, I'm older than you now."

"What?"

"Think about it. You're from more than two years ago. I'm older, so I'm tired." 

He sits up, resting on his elbows. "That's all it is?"

"Mmm-hmm." She kisses his chest, eyes still closed. "I'm all right."

"Let me help."

"You are helping."

"This is all you need?"

She strokes his chest. "This is nice." 

He sighs, and she can picture his face without looking. That face means she needs to open her eyes. She lifts her head, meeting his gaze. 

"How can you help?"

"How many classes are you teaching?"

"Several."

"May--"

"It's fine."

"And meetings, you must have at least three a day." 

"Meetings aren't new, Phil."

"I know, I know." He lifts her face with his hand under her chin. "I'm good at meetings."

"You're not the director of the Academy."

"I could be her right hand."

She laughs, resting her hand on his chest. "Are you offering yourself a job?"

"You've been everything I needed, for years, decades. You were my council, my support. Let me support you."

She sits up, her hair falling heavy over her shoulders. "Phil--"

"You don't have to answer right away, just, think about it. You're carrying a lot. You're exhausted. I can help. I know SHIELD. I know you. I'd be good at it." 

Melinda kisses him, smiling as she shakes her head. "You'd be great at it." 

"Think about it in your meetings."

"When I think about you, I'll think about much more fun things than work." She kisses him one more time, then leaves the bed. 

"Well that's a great use of your meeting." 

She ducks into the bathroom, cleaning herself up. He'll probably distract her more if she takes more time to get ready. He's still in bed when she returns, smiling, flushed, very pleased with himself, as he should be. She starts getting dressed and he watches, patient, fascinated, and still very much enamored with her. That tingles on the back of her neck, warm and wonderful.

Buttoning her blouse, she returns to the bed to kiss him. "Offering to do my work with me is one of the sweetest things you've ever done."

"Thanks for not asking me to shoot you in the head."

She shuts her eyes, smiles, laughs in relief. "You couldn't handle that."

"Not at all." He stands up, chooses her earrings and hands them over. "These ones."

"Thanks." Melinda kisses him again, standing on her tiptoes and pulling him close. This should give him something to think about all day. "See you tonight."   



	5. Espionage 418 - committing fully to the mission: intimacy in field work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Melinda help her cadets learn not to be distracted by kissing. Melinda finally tells him her secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Tina and Aditi for your support!

_ Espionage 418 -  committing fully to the mission: intimacy in field work  _

Melinda already has her notes and her laptop out on the kitchen table when he gets out of the shower. Phil pours himself the rest of the pot of coffee, more out of habit than need for caffeine. It's relaxing, not needing to save the world, having this time with her. He sniffs his coffee with a smile. At least since he's doing the grocery shopping, it's what he likes. 

Her hair's down today, soft in waves on the shoulders of her maroon sweater. She's been favoring sweaters over blazers and there's something so gentle and wonderful about her not having to worry about what's practical to fight in. 

She sips her tea, reading yet another cadet's mock mission report. 

"Did you eat breakfast?"

Melinda shakes her head, smiling without looking up. "You didn't cook it yet."

"That would be a hangup," he agrees, glancing in the fridge before he decides on oatmeal. She didn't finish dinner last night when he made steak so maybe they just need something bland. "What's your seminar today?" 

"Oh it's a fun one, Phil, your favorite." Her eyes never twinkle like that when anything good is going to happen to him. 

"Oh?"

"Kissing you at the fundraiser was so distracting to my cadets that I moved this class up several weeks: use of intimacy during fieldwork."

"You're kidding." He covers the oatmeal on the stove and heads to the table just to make sure. She holds up the seminar schedule and there it is, " _ Committing fully to the mission: use of intimacy in field work".  _ "They let you name the class, didn't they?"

"It's my class." She touches his shoulder and her fingers slip out towards his neck. She's so distracting. "It would be so helpful if you came."

"I'm here to help." He stares into her intoxicating dark eyes so long that the beep of the stove timer pulls him away before he finds more words. "How are you teaching it?"

She finishes her tea and sets it down. "You and I can start, then they'll pair off and try some of the scenarios and we'll talk about how they can be useful and how to telegraph the type of intimacy you need for the mission." 

"Do I have to take off your bra?"

"Only if that card comes up," she teases, patting a worn set of notecards. "I'm sure Maria put that in here somewhere."

"Maria wasn't available to teach it with you this time?"

"Sadly not." Melinda sighs dramatically over her oatmeal and berries as he hands it over. "You'll have to do."

"I'll do my best." Worst case, he has to kiss her a few times in front of some shocked cadets. Even if it's far from the golden, bittersweet moments in Tahiti, they kissed plenty yesterday, and now she's not wearing lipstick yet. He hasn't kissed Melinda this much since they left the island, though he's making an effort to catch up, and she's just as eager to touch him. 

He remembers that look in her eyes: that amusement, the challenge... Flirting for a cover is one of her favorite types of games. He's in trouble. 

* * *

After breakfast, he walks her to class, holding her hand, guiding her through doors. He could get used to this. Maybe get his own office in the same building, have lunch with her, and drop into her classes. He wants her presence, craves her smile like oxygen and it could happen. He could slip into her life and stay. They could do this together. 

The seminar is small, only sixteen students, all close to graduation, all specialists. He recognizes some of them from the fundraiser. These are the some cadets she tasked with being catering staff. The ones who gave themselves away to Mack when she started kissing him. She's right, they need practice before field work on their own. 

Melinda starts with a brief lecture on the importance of intimacy as a distraction and part of cover stories. A married couple who hold hands awkwardly should be part of your cover, not something that happens because you're not ready to give it your all, because all of it needs to be in your control. 

He's not blushing. Dammit. He is entirely good at hand holding now, thank you. The last time they were undercover together as husband and wife, they were fine. Completely convincing. He's never been married but it seems more possible every time it comes up. 

Melinda sits on the table in the front of the room, feet on the chair, smiling as the students laugh nervously at the idea of kissing each other. 

"Agent May-" 

He looks up at her, surprised. Agent May is him. They're going with this. She said it. He's Mr. May now. What else was he going to call himself? Can't really walk around being the Academy's namesake.

"-and I will demonstrate a few scenarios, then we'll dissect what we're doing as a class, then you'll try some with your partner. Tomorrow we'll show some scenarios to each other and work on the little things that make it real."

One of the cadets holds out the pile of notecards to Melinda but she waves the student to Phil. Making a point not to look, he shuffles a little and draws one. 

"Comfortably married couple on vacation," he reads aloud, burying his relief. Knowing Maria there are some incredibly steamy ones he doesn't want to demonstrate in public. He's not going to think about kissing Melinda breathless without an audience, or undoing her bra just to prove he can. Later, much later. 

He's kidding himself. Later means after class in her office, because she's so beautiful today that his newly repaired heart can barely handle it. She'll laugh that laugh if he tells her and he can already imagine her legs wrapped around his waist. 

Melinda holds out her hand and pulls him over. She slips off the table, standing facing him. She touches his cheek, smiling so gently that his chest aches.  _ Later, you get her later. _ He strokes her hair, then kisses her forehead. 

"I had a really nice time yesterday."

"You love looking at old things."

"I don't consider you old."

Melinda smirks, taking his hand. "And here I thought you were distracted by the architecture."

Running his thumb over her collarbone, he leans in close. The cadets stare silently, as if watching Shakespeare. "I was." 

She rewards that with a kiss, warm and full. When they part, the students start raising their hands. 

Melinda releases him and his heart beats in his ears. "Tell me what you noticed, then what you're wondering."

The first cadet talks about the way he touched her hair, and a second adds that their flirting showed a level of comfort with each other because age could be sensitive, but it obviously wasn't.

"What made it obvious?" Melinda prompts and he takes the chair beside her, listening and watching her work. 

"The way you touched each other was very gentle, familiar, without any tension. That made it seem like you'd been doing it a long time." 

"Good, good observation." 

The discussion flies by before Melinda draws another card. "Intoxicated newlyweds who don't speak the language," she reads, chuckling. "All right, honey, you ready?"

He dredges up the memories of being intoxicated, letting his body go loose as he stands up. Melinda takes a moment, then starts to giggle, nearly tripping against him. He doesn't even have to say anything, and it's as if he's said the funniest thing she's ever heard. 

"That's not true," he improvises. This time when he touches her face, he pulls her closer, makes it needy, hungry. Pretending she's the most beautiful woman alive is easy, too easy, because that's true, and the way she tugs at his shirt makes his skin tingle as they kiss, nearly pushing him into the table. 

"It is true." Throwing her arms around his neck, she examines his lips with clumsy obsession. "Most couples don't leave their bed on their honeymoon."

Lifting her up to the table, he slips between her knees. "Well that just sounds boring, kind of limits your options a little, doesn't it?"

Melinda's giggle deepens into almost a growl and she reaches for his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders as he grabs her hips. He pulls her in closer, almost a little rough. She grabs at his crotch, nearly missing his belt. 

A flush rises in his face and it's entirely unfair that this is work because he could just pull her into her office now and... 

"Time," the cadet with the stopwatch calls out. 

Her lipstick's smudged and her hair's mussed. The light in her eyes could be from being dragged from bed, and her cheeks are pink. She's beautiful in a way that claws at him. What is he missing? Something demands his attention and he just hasn't grasped it yet. 

"Wow," says one of the students. "You were totally different people."

"That's the point. Change your outfit, change your hair, or even change the way you touch someone and suddenly you're not the same person. You get noticed differently, or ignored when you want to be." She leads them through a discussion about how no one really wants to watch newlyweds and it's a good way to be ignored as you case a room, or head through somewhere with lots of people. 

"The first scene is about comfort, you're boring them with how much you love each other. You're not a threat. The newlywed cover is about making whoever is watching uncomfortable because it feels too intimate, too personal." She holds up the stack of notecards. "Take one with your partner and try it, then we'll discuss." 

Phil follows her lead, walking around the room, explaining how to tilt a chin in a way that speaks of old intimacy, or how to grab a thigh in a way that oozes with want. These are good students, advanced, and he's distracted watching more than one couple. They'll be good in the field, and better with practice. 

Melinda leads another discussion, guiding Phil's hands over her body to showcase new desire and old longing, what an abusive relationship might look like, and what to look for to give away other agents. She doesn't tell the bra story, and instead talks about dancing with him in that sequined dress and smiling until her face hurt. 

"I highly recommend the dance elective, even if you think it's stupid. It's very useful." 

That earns him a smile and they're about to do another round of student practice but one in the back raises his hand. "Could you two do one more? It's so helpful to be able to watch what choices you make." 

"Sure." Melinda offers him the cards and he draws. This time the handwritten words on the card catch in his throat as if he's choking on them. "Confessing a pregnancy to your partner." Why is that one so intense? What did she say two days ago? 

Melinda blinks once in surprise, then nods. "All right, I guess I should take partner A?" Her joke amuses the class but for some reason her eyes are soft, not bright with mirth. 

She nods to the student with the stopwatch and stares down at her hands. One hand rests on her stomach, as if protecting something and his chest burns. She never got to have a child. She had Robin, for a time, and Daisy's theirs as much as anyone, but she never got this part.

She wanted it so much once. She deserved it. She'd be an incredible mother. 

"Can I talk to you for a moment, honey?"

He sets down his copy of the syllabus as if it's a newspaper. "Of course." 

"I know the timing isn't--" she stops, licking her lips as if she's terrified. 

Phil has no choice but to respond to that fear. She shouldn't be afraid, she should be thrilled. "The timing of what?" Of course the husband doesn't know, he never notices. 

"I know we talked about it, but it awhile ago, and then we didn't think about it because work was just so busy. We weren't but I--" she stops again, voice softer, throat tighter. She stares at his hands instead of at him, then grabs his hands, her palms damp against his. How'd she make herself so nervous? She's so good at this it's like it's real. 

"It's all right." He squeezes her hands and guides her to the chair. "Sit." He hands her the glass of water from the table and crouches down, his hands on her knees. "Maybe start at the beginning."

"It is a beginning," she says, hands trembling around the water glass. "It's  _ the _ beginning and I don't know how to tell you." Setting the glass down, she takes his hand and brings it to her belly. Her stomach's firm against his hand, but soft somehow. He should stumble through some words, make sure she's all right, but her heart's pounding so fast he can feel it. She wouldn't fake that, would she? Why bother being that nervous?

This is real. 

His throat goes dry. Her exhaustion, the afternoon naps he teases her for, her lack of appetite, the way she's so careful standing up yet dizzy sometimes. 

"I know it's a surprise, hopefully it's a good one." 

"Heidi--" he starts, but she doesn't let him finish. He barely made himself use the cover, he almost slipped and said her name. 

"I'm pregnant." 

Everything stops. All of his senses collapse into her thudding heartbeat, echoing his own. 

That's the missing piece. Her hesitance, her fear what they have isn't what he wants. She's not afraid of them being together, it's that he won't want her and a baby. "You are," he whispers in awe. "Oh my god--" he adds so softly that no one else can hear. 

_ "You can't get me pregnant right now."  _ She tried to tell him and he missed it. 

Melinda kisses his cheek, lingering against him and the heat of her feeling washes over him, rushing up in a torrent of apprehension, fear and joy. 

She's crying, he's crying, and there's not a dry eye in the room as her empathy carries her feelings over all of the cadets like a river cascading over its banks.

The stopwatch beeps, forgotten. 

He wants to demand how, why, when, are you all right, but that seems too crude. It's too simplistic. This is not something he needs to pull out of her. He can just be happy. She has something she's wanted since before Bahrain. 

"Who?" He asks without sound. 

"Yours," she replies silently, then shuts her eyes. This isn't a public discussion. "Class dismissed until tomorrow." She wipes her eyes and covers his hand on her belly with hers. Somehow, this is their baby. 

"Remember to practice your scene with your partner so we can discuss them."

The students start to file out, then on the way out they walk up, touching her shoulder, smiling, whispering their congratulations as if paying homage to a saint. One or two of the braver ones even hug her and her tears run faster once they're gone. She deserves every bit of their respect, and she has it. 

She strokes his cheek after they're gone, pulling him into her arms. 

"I was ready," she murmurs. "I couldn't wait."

He loses himself in her eyes, then touches her belly again, holding her with both hands. Her eyes drown him in affection, and warmth. "You've waited long enough."

"I didn't know you were coming back, we could have- but I didn't know if you'd want this and I didn't know what to say."

He has to swallow, then he laughs. "It's wonderful." Affection wells in his stomach, thick like honey and just as warm. Is this his feeling? Hers? Can she feel his confusion? 

"Who?" he starts but shakes his head. "It's not important." He can't press. It doesn't matter. They're together and he'll be everything she wants him to be.

"You," she answers before he can walk away from the question. "When you died, you left me everything. Your parents' old house in Wisconsin, Lola, your old DNA samples, from when we started field work."

"I was.going to say, we just had sex Wednesday, it would be pretty quick."

She smiles at that and wipes her eyes. "IVF is pretty unsexy."

"It was brave of you."

"Oh?"

"I know how long you've wanted this, and doing it alone..."

Years and several lifetimes ago, she wanted a baby with Andrew. They had so many conversations about what that child might be like. How she'd work around childcare and school plays and Phil had been so happy for her. He wanted her to have what made her complete.

"I didn't think he'd- you- would mind...I didn't want anyone else."

"I'm honored." He rubs his thumb over her sweater once, then pulls his hand back.

Melinda nods, struggling with her tears. 

He aches, wistful and worn. "I'm so sorry you were so alone." He left her that way. He didn't fight to stay with her even when she begged him. No wonder she was afraid to tell him. He lets her down, over and over. 

"It wasn't going to work." She fidgets with the note cards as she picks them up, unable to look at him. "It's like doing a vertical landing inside a cave during a hurricane. It shouldn't have--"

He touches her back, then her hair. "Hey, it's okay to be happy that it did."

She takes a breath, shivering. "Is it? I don't deserve it, I've never thought I'd be happy like this."

"You are everything." He touches her shoulders. Reassurance comes to both of them when he hugs her, wrapping their arms tight. "I want to be with you, and this doesn't change that. This is more, and that's beautiful."

"You keep talking about the future, and I didn't know how to tell you."

That clicks. "You stacked the deck."

Melinda laughs, kissing his neck. "Just the last time. I had to give myself a kick."

He lets go of her just to see her face, and kisses her, long and slow. "My future is you, if you'll have me, a baby is a wonderful addition to that."

"If I'll--' she repeats, scoffing. "Stay with me this time."

"As long as I can."

Nodding, she shuts her eyes and kisses him again, pulling him closer so his tears join her own. 

This requires no clarification. He loves and it pours out of him, she loves and it fills him, rich and vivid, overriding his senses. She loves him like the blinding sun, so warm and bright that his eyes sting and his heart feels like a candle in comparison. He has to earn her, love her like she should be loved, every day, all of his days. She deserves that. She needs it. 

Hopefully his determination to do that is as loud as the rest of his thoughts. 

The way she melts into him suggests that it got through. 

"This is why you're so tired." 

"I could sleep for days and my breasts hurt..." she trails off and shrugs. "The dizziness is morefrustrating."

"I knew something was different." He cups her breasts, gentle and smiling. "They're beautiful."

"They ache." She takes another breath, calming herself in a way that echoes through both of them. "It's like I can fall asleep standing up and my head keeps spinning."

"No nausea?"

"Not yet." She gives him that don't worry about me look. "You've made balancing much easier this week."

"Thanks." 

Maybe that's all he can do. Try to fill in what she needs, offer what he has. He doesn't have to have all the pieces. He brushes her hair back away from her face and smiles, really smiles in the way that exposes his whole heart. "You are extraordinary, Melinda May."

She takes a tissue out of her briefcase and fixes her smudged lipstick, then tosses it away. He picks up the case and waves towards the door. The seminar took most of the morning and her cadets have electives this afternoon. 

"How long?" He asks, keeping her in the classroom with her hand on the door. 

"Eight weeks they say, which is really six, but they-"

"Have the most ridiculous way of timing it." 

"Yes." She shakes her head. "Very inexact." Melinda closes her eyes, centering herself. Maybe she's dizzy. Now that he knows he can worry about that. Help her take it easy sometimes. 

"Come on," he says into her hair, "show me this cafeteria you frequent so often." 

She chuckles. "It's nice."

"I don't doubt it." 

Chuckling, she leans into him. She must have wanted this so deeply to do it on her own, and she's not alone now. "I wanted to tell you so many times."

"You're worth waiting for."

Melinda kisses him one more time. Her cadets know and spies are terrible at keeping secrets. They have maybe a day before it gets to Mack, Elena, then Daisy, Fitz and Simmons. Might as well enjoy it while it's theirs alone.  


"Takes you long enough to figure that out." 

He takes her hand. "Well, honey, lead the way." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hinted a little, and some of you got it! Thanks for your support! I can't stop giving them babies but they'd be so cute.


	6. Interdisciplinary Seminar 304 - working in teams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda and Phil have time to talk, then they tell Mack and Yoyo about the baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge thanks to Tina for all her help

"What did you get at the library?" She checks the titles of his small pile of books as she clears the table. Melinda smiles a little and sets the historical ones aside. Phil's always been into the quiet corners of SHIELD history. The more cobwebs the more he enjoys it. It's the last book, small, unassuming, with a simple green cover, that makes her pause. 

"This one?" 

Phil leaves the counter to meet her in the dining room. He dries his hands and throws the dish towel on his shoulder. "Oh yeah, well, I don't know much about our new project."

She sets the pregnancy book down on the shelf and smiles. "Project?" 

"Do you have another name?"

Melinda sighs, looking at her hands before looking back at him. "Baobao." 

His rush of affection washes over her like the smell of her father's cooking, with all the same warmth. 

"That's adorable."

"Shut up."

"Hey, the best I could come up with was next year's research project." He touches her arm and that brings with it all his love and gratitude. "I still can't believe it."

Melinda slips into his arms, wrapping hers around his back. "I took a pregnancy test every day for a week because the line was so faint at first."

"Did that help?"

"I dropped the first dark one in the toilet and had to fish it out." 

Phil laughs, lifting her hands and kissing them. "Oh dear."

"I was so afraid it would wash out, somehow."

"I don't think that's how they work."

"It's not how they work." She leans in, resting her head on his chest, listening to his steady, sure, heartbeat. "I was so nervous."

"You haven't been clumsy since the first year at the Academy." 

"I know."

He beams, too happy for words, and she has to blink because she's too close to crying again. "That's pretty cute."

"Cute?"

"Melinda, you never think things are going to work out."

"They don't!" She lifts her head, glaring at him. "Things do not work out for us. We kiss and it's not me, we go on vacation together and you die." 

"Sorry."

"You came back." She kisses him to ease that stab of regret. "I'll get over it in a few years."

Phil holds her face, studying her eyes like she's priceless. "Take your time."

"You certainly did." She grabs the dish towel from his shoulder and playfully snaps it towards his arm. 

Laughing, he holds up his hands in surrender. "I know."

"You're worse than Turtle Man."

Phil kisses her cheek, taking the dish towel back and escaping to the kitchen. "We need to tell them."

"Mack and Yoyo?"

"And Daisy." 

Melinda sets plates on the table, then glasses and takes a breath. Telling Phil was hard enough and didn't make it any more real, or easier to talk about. Baobao has just been hers for more than a month, and forming the words is still alien. 

"They're going to be thrilled," he says over the sounds of him moving things in the kitchen. He hasn't said what he's making, but it seems complicated. 

"How do we...?" she trails off and heads to the kitchen. "What do we say?" 

"Surprise!"

She steals another towel off the stove to toss at him. "Sure." 

"When are you due?"

"Like a library book?"

"That's the word!" He half hides behind the fridge. "Babies are like books." 

"You love books."

Phil hands her onions, an eggplant, some container of something, and spinach from the fridge. "I love this." 

"Ricotta?"

"Baobao."

She wasn't ready for him to use the nickname, or for him to look at her like that, and it's really unfair that she can tear up in a heartbeat. 

"Hey, these onions aren't even sliced yet," he says, all softness as he brushes her tears away. "It's okay."

"Phil--"

"Can you chop them? Thin slices, even." 

He hands her a knife and moves to fret over the noodles boiling on the stove. "It's lasagna."

"I guessed."

"The eggplant needs to be thin too, so it'll cook evenly, and you need to pull the stems out of the spinach."

"I need too?"

"You're a great sous chef."

"Is that the chef who chops things?"

"You know you're deadly with a knife." 

"Onions are already dead." 

"Not these ones, they're Hydra, or LMDs or something."

"Very funny."

He holds her hips for a moment, then kisses her cheek, resting his head on her shoulder. "I keep remembering doing this in Tahiti."

"It was too hot to cook in Tahiti!" Melinda pats his face. "But you wanted to cook as much as possible before you--"

His hand brushes across her stomach, and her thoughts of death fade. He's here, he's alive, and they have this life to think about. 

"That was nice. This is better." 

"Because of the-"

"This isn't expiring," he interrupts. 

Turning in his arms, Melinda reaches for his shoulders. "One of us will die eventually."

"Dark."

"Realistic."

"Give us forty to fifty years and we can talk about it." Phil kisses her cheek, then turns her chin to kiss her properly. "You didn't say when you were due." 

"October." 

He rests his forehead on hers, and his eyes shine this time. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I love Halloween, we can dress up little Baobao."

She sets the knife down rather than risk cutting herself with her eyes so clouded. Melinda could blame the onions, but both of them know better. "I didn't think you'd be here," she says, finally when he's stopped fussing with the noodles to look at her. 

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's- I'm okay. I would have been okay, just, this is better."

He kisses her cheek, then hugs her, careful to keep his hands off her shirt. "Hey, you're always okay, you're amazing like that." 

Swaying with him in the kitchen, trying not to get parts of lasagna everywhere is hardly amazing, yet it's everything. He's here, flesh and blood, with his bad jokes, the incredible way he smells, and the way he holds her.

Phil couldn't hold her enough in Tahiti. He's going to be the same way with the baby, when they get here and she kisses him, hard. Kissing's easier than talking, warmer, more immediate because she doesn't know how to keep talking about how much it means that he's here. 

He breaks the kiss, still trying to keep his hands out of her hair. "We're not going to get dinner made this way."

Resting her hands on his chest, she traces his shirt collar, trying not to think about how firm his chest is against hers. "How much time does dinner need?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Can you make it ten?"

"Do you want your lasagna uneven?"

Melinda reaches up and undoes the top button of his shirt. "I'm not that hungry." She reaches for the second button and he shivers. 

"You're going to be hungry."

"There's pizza in the freezer." 

"May-"

"I'm sure I have MREs somewhere." 

Phil laughs, then kisses her hard enough to make her gasp, pressing her back against the counter. "Ten minutes. Use your patience. Chop faster." 

She throws the top of the onion in his direction, and the eggplant stem for good measure. He tosses the stem back, almost knocking over her water. When Melinda reaches for it toss it back, she knocks the glass, spilling water all over her shirt. 

"Oops," she says, as innocently as she can. Phil's eyes watch her like lasers as she unbuttons her blouse and hangs it on the back of a chair. Her camisole is wet too so she eases that up over her head. Her breasts hang swollen, heavy, and thanks to hormones, her simple white bra is almost too small. 

Leaning over the cutting board, she finishes with the vegetables he wanted and walks over to him by the stove. Phil stares, open mouthed, and takes them without a word. 

"How long now?" she asks, looking over his work, brushing her breasts against his arm. "Still ten minutes?"

He's never assembled a lasagna that fast in his life, and he'll complain it's imperfect in an hour when they're eating, but it'll taste wonderful and there are slightly more important things that they could be doing with this time. 

Washing his hands, he drops a towel onto the floor for the water she spilled. "So, hormones make you clumsy, huh?"

"So clumsy." Melinda shakes her head. "Don't know what happened to me." 

Phil has his shirt off a moment after the lasagna's tucked into the oven, then they kiss, like newlyweds on the way to the bedroom. He stops, pressing her against the wall near the bookcase, teasing. "We should stay where I can hear the timer." 

"Here?"

He glances around. "We're not near the windows." 

Stripping off his jeans and her trousers is so quick it's barely foreplay. He presses her against the wall, kissing her breasts as he undoes her bra. It falls to the floor and he palms her breasts. They're so sensitive that he barely has to touch them and she moans. 

Phil turns her to face the wall, bracing her hands on the smooth paint as he parts her legs, stroking up her inner thigh. His warm fingers open her up while he moves her hair and kisses the back of her neck. It feels naughty, having sex in the dining room, while the sun is still tracing along the floor. His fingers slip into her first, teasing, followed by the sweet girth of him a moment later. Pressing back into him, she deepens the angle, guides him in, but his hands on on both of her breasts and his mouth's on her back.

He murmurs about how good she feels and she doesn't have words to reply. She needed this, more than food, more than teasing, this makes it easy. 

She orgasms so quickly that she's laughing against the wall a moment later, he pauses, ready to pull out and wait. Of course he is. 

"Don't," she insists, keeping him inside as her body tenses around him. "Keep going."

He thrusts again, gently, almost too much so and she lets her control slip so he can feel her affection, her surrender, her need, and maybe it's the last that gets him. She wants in ways she didn't- couldn't- before. Maybe it's just hormones but hormones are a gift she's going to enjoy every minute of. She's still panting when he orgasms, dragging his teeth along her shoulder. She wriggles around while he slumps against her, pinning her against the wall. 

"Wow," he says, catching his breath. 

"Told you I wasn't hungry."

"Except, now you are."

Can he feel that? Did she share? Is he just teasing because he knows her? Melinda kisses him once more. "Good thing you made dinner first."

"Told you."

She shoves off the wall and collects their clothes, sated for the moment. They end up eating dinner in pajamas, by candlelight. The soft glow hides the imperfections of his entirely delicious dinner, and she's on her second piece when he reminds them both that they need to share this with their family. 

"Maybe not all of it."

"Yo-Yo likes a few little details."

"You didn't."

"Maybe."

"After Tahiti?"

Melinda licks sauce from her fork. "It's possible."

He shakes his head. "I need wine."

"All yours, honey." 

Phil leaves his seat, returning with a glass of wine. "There's a kaiseki restaurant Randolph was telling me about that could work. Mack and Yo-Yo love interesting food."

"Randolph is just as much of a foodie as you."

"He's been on earth thousands of years, he enjoys it."

"He usually has good taste in restaurants," she concedes, holding out her plate for more. 

"Really?"

"Had a good workout today, hard up against the wall."

Phil smirks over his wine. "That you did."

"Okay, fancy restaurant for Mack and Yo-Yo, done," she pauses, taking another bite. She'd eat less of it if it wasn't so damn good.

While she's chewing, he takes over the thought. "How do we tell Daisy, and FitzSimmons?"

"FitzSimmons don't travel much now, we'll have to just call." 

Phil nods, brushing his mouth with his napkin. His lips are still bright from earlier and part of her can't wait to devour them again. "And Daisy?"

"Her deep space deployments are long sometimes, several weeks. I'd really like to tell her in person, if we can, but we can call if we have too. We have this communicator tings that reach that far."

"But you'd rather see her."

Melinda sets down her fork, staring at her plate. "That's sentimental, isn't it?"

"Not at all, it's big news."

"I thought I'd only have to tell her if it worked, and it wasn't going to work-"

"Of course not," Phil interrupts, rolling his eyes. 

"And then I thought I'd just tell her the next time she was back on Earth, but I don't know when that's going to be and I don't want her to think we--"

Phil reaches across the table, squeezing her hand. "She'd never think that."

"Okay."

"Maybe Mack will have a better idea of when she'll be back."

She nods, but her thoughts are already drifting. How is Daisy and her team? Are they coalescing into a little family like her old team? Is she happy out there? 

"Do you remember our long deployments?"

"Being out on mission for weeks, months at a time?" Phil leans back in his chair, sipping his wine. "Oh yeah."

"It was fun then. Now-" she pauses, chuckling. "Going to conferences and leaving my comfortable bed sounds exhausting."

"It's a nice bed." 

"It's better with you. Even if we don't make it all of the time." She gives him a look, trying to make him blush and succeeding is about as delicious as the lasagna. 

"There's still plenty of places in the apartment to try out." Phil teases back over his wine. "Like the shower."

"Is that a request?"

"You want me to file a form?"

"In triplicate, please."

"There's the red tape you love." 

Laughing, she stands up and blows out the candles. Phil starts to collect the plates and she shakes her head. 

"Leave them."

"Oh?"

"I'm requisitioning you for something better."

"Without a form that likes kidnapping."

Melinda wraps her arms around his waist, tugging him close. "You'd be thrilled to be kidnapped by me."

"That's- Phil pauses, licking his lips. "That's absolutely true." 

Throwing her arms around his neck, she stands on her tiptoes in her bare feet to kiss him. He tastes just a little like wine and he kisses back hungrily. Phil touches her back, then lifts her up. 

"This time bed."

"Just this once." 

* * *

Mack and Yo-Yo are late this time. If it wasn't for Phil, they would have been late too but he's good at watching the time. She hasn't worn nice earrings in a few days and the weight of them keeps making her pause when she moves her head. These are her mother's gift, so more ostentatious than she'd usually wear, but Phil loves them because they're antique. He probably knows the story better than Melinda does, definitely appreciates it more. 

Sometimes she forgets and makes dinner reservations with a cover name. She hasn't done it for some time, but Mack and Elena have met her several times as the Martin party, and as Phil holds her purse, she wonders if she did it on purpose without him, clinging to any reminder of him because she missed him so much. 

Now he lingers behind her, moving her hair over her shoulder. The intimacy of it aches, so does the sweetness of his smile and the watercolor wash of his love. His feelings rise over the rest of the room, the colonist within the symphony of people in the restaurant. She shuts her eyes, listening to his emotions hum with affection and warmth. If she concentrates enough, she can feel Mack and Yo-Yo arrive. Mack's always steady, like the purr of an engine at altitude and Yo-Yo's quick and firm, like a motorcycle opening up on a clear road. 

Phil touches her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. "They're here?"

"At the door." 

The restaurant has cozy, intimate rooms where they sit on the floor, and it's a little awkward in her black dress but the skirt's full and there's something comforting about it. and though Melinda's Japanese is rudimentary, the characters on the menu are beautiful and familiar enough and they have very good green tea. 

"See, I told you they'd make me sit on the floor and that I should wear pants," Yo-Yo says, hitting Mack on the arm. "You don't know how awkward it is to get up and down in a dress." Her jumpsuit is very practical and beautiful, deep blue, and Melinda's a little jealous but she'd have to take it off eight times to pee so maybe the dress is fine. 

Mack leans down to kiss her cheek. "You look great."

"Thanks."

Yo-Yo hugs her before she sits, and her eyes linger on Melinda's cleavage. "Yeah, having Coulson back really suits you." 

"Very funny."

"She wore more boring things when you were gone. Less-" Yo-Yo pauses, framing her own breasts with her hands for a moment, "-fun."

Melinda can't remember what she wore out to dinner with them, most of the time she was just so thrilled to see them that it didn't matter where they went. Fancy dinners just started happening when Mack's promotion became official and it felt like they needed to celebrate. 

The first course arrives, delicately prepared sea urchin, plated like a work of art and Phil and Mack start debating on how it should be prepared and Yo-Yo digs in, shaking her head at them. 

"You wouldn't believe the cooking shows he finds to watch in his office." 

Melinda smiles, glancing at Phil then at her cup. He refills her tea without a word, continuing to debate with Mack about some part of helicarrier paperwork while Yo-Yo reaches for the sake. 

"Phil used to leave nature documentaries on in the background when he was really stressed."

Yo-Yo smirks at that. "Really?"

"He loves kangaroos." 

"Turtle man here just wants to watch the fanciest, most ridiculous preparations of mac and cheese."

"That was cool," Mack interrupts, pointing at her with his cup. "They made their own noodles, and then this incredible cheese sauce."

"Mac and cheese comes from a box."

"That's why elevating it to cuisine is important!"

Yo-Yo sets aside her plate. "I think we could just have steak, and it would be fine."

Phil thinks for a moment. "There's a churrasco place we can try next time."

"Is that on Massachusetts?" Mack knows it, of course he does. Melinda could swear half of what he and Phil talk about is where to eat. 

"Close to headquarters."

"Cutting down your commute?" 

"You know how those meetings are," Mack says, reaching for more sake and sighing. "I'm tempted to do what you did and become persona non grata just to stop needing to talk to Congress."

Phil laughs and nods with him. "I recommend it." 

Melinda gets to her feet slowly, taking her time usually keeps her head from spinning, but maybe she's been sitting too long, or it's warm. She's had a good run of not being dizzy and maybe that's why she slams right into it like a sudden bout of turbulence. She wavers and the wall's right there but Yo-Yo grabs her before she's even really aware of how dark her vision got. 

"Hey."

"Sorry."

"Sorry? You okay?"

Phil's half up off the floor and Mack's on his knees and she loves them both. 

"I'm fine."

The weight of what hasn't been said hangs in the room, and all she can look at is Phil's face. He smiles, nods a little. She can find words for this. She nods back and his flash of acceptance is bright as a flare in the back of her mind. He'll tell Mack, then it's out. She can do this.

"Here, I'll come with you."

"I'm-"

"Oh fine, totally fine, I just, you know, sake, and I might need help with all these buttons," Yo-Yo jokes, pointing at her jumpsuit. "Come on." Yo-Yo's hand finds her back and stays there all the way to the bathroom. 

Yo-Yo disappears into the stall next to her and it's quiet, peaceful in the bathroom. Telling Yo-Yo is easier than telling Daisy, or her parents. Yo-Yo's already out, washing her hands when Melinda emerges from the stall. The soap smells like citrus on her hands. 

"So you're not bleeding."

"No."

"I half expected to find some kind of hidden injury."

Melinda rolls her eyes. "My blood pressure's been off."

"So, you're dying then?" Yo-Yo leans on the counter, watching her wash her hands. 

"Dying?"

"Heart failure? I was going to guess cancer but that seems really boring compared to everything we've lived through." 

"You think I have cancer?"

"I know you're not saying something, and if you need help telling Daisy and FitzSimmons, you know we're here for you, Turtle Man and I--"

Melinda's not sure if she's being sarcastic, and there's something, but Yo-Yo's all sincere, concerned, warm and worried when she touches her bare arm. 

"It's so much easier for Phil to say it." Melinda finishes washing her hands and Yo-Yo hands her a towel. Concentrating on the fabric and the warmth against her fingers is easier than thinking. 

"Coulson loves talking." 

"I-" Melinda takes a breath. "We're-" Maybe it's easier that way. "I'm pregnant."

"¡Carajo!" Yo-Yo squeezes her arm, her eyes widen, then she starts to smile, really smile. "Way better than cancer."

"Yeah." She's not going to cry. She has it together until Yo-Yo hugs her, hard, and fast, because she's always fast. 

"But he just got back, how did you--"

"Frozen."

Yo-Yo pulls back to look at her, thinking about that without questioning it. "You okay?"

"Blood pressure's off."

"That happens. My sister-in-law blacked out a couple times. I wasn't fast enough to catch her then. Now I'm all over it." Yo-Yo touches her belly, softly, barely even making contact. "Coulson?"

"Surprised."

"Yeah, I can see that. Back from the dead and hey, by the way--"

"He's happy."

"Of course he is, guy's been dying to be a daddy."

"Really?

"You see those jeans? He wears dad jeans, ask Mack." Yo-Yo chuckles. "Is he telling Mack because I want to see his face." 

"I think so."

"That was the look."

"Yeah, that was the look."

"You guys are so married it's ridiculous." Yo-Yo takes her hand, tugging her out of the bathroom and back to the table. Joy radiates out from her intensely enough for Melinda to laugh, and then Mack starts to stand when they return to their table and he's so fast, warm and happy. Lifting her up, he hugs her, spinning around once with her feet totally off the floor. 

"Oh my god, May."

Phil gives Yo-Yo details, IVF and October and eight weeks and how surprised he was and Mack just holds her, hands on her shoulders. 

"This is great."

"Thanks." 

"You feeling okay?"

"Could sleep forever."

"Yeah, take naps. Make Coulson talk to the cadets for you." 

"That's not a bad idea."

"Do that." Mack runs his hands down her arms. Warm and concerned, and so happy. "Come, eat."

The next artistic course of food sits waiting for them and her dress flows around her feet as she sits on the tatami floor. Phil sits closer now, his hand on her thigh. 

"Well at least now you're not wasting any more time," Yo-Yo says over her sashimi. "October will be here before you know it." 

Melinda reaches for his hand, squeezing his fingers. 

"It'll be great."

Mack lifts up his glass. "You need anything, you call us, okay? Middle of the night, we're there, okay?" 

"You can send Mack out for ice cream, he's got people who will go get it." 

"That's true. You have cadets, make them get things for you." 

Melinda rests her head on Phil's shoulder, smiling at them. "I'll keep that in mind." 


	7. Espionage 227 - security clearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil tires to figure out what he wants to do with his third life. Daisy and her team visit. Melinda has some trouble with her blood pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update this! It's been busy at work and I got distracted by my other fics. Thanks for your patience! Coming back to this one reminded me how much I love it. 
> 
> huge thanks to Tina, for all of her help.

He's been back two weeks when he starts to get restless. There's plenty to do, and books to read and he can actually grocery shop, instead of ordering things in bulk for the playground or living on MREs on the Zephyr and canned goods and dehydrated things in the Lighthouse. 

He walks Melinda to class as often as he can. It's still a little chilly, but spring's in the air, so the mornings are peaceful. He falls for the routine, kissing her goodbye in front of her office, coming back for lunch, and it's peaceful, calm in a way the best days of working together always were. 

Even if he's not working. Doesn't have any plans for working and really should figure that out. He trades in his library books, collecting a few more, but they're most recreational. The Academy has a decent fiction section, and it's not just the classics and spy novels. Agents should be well read, and they need to be able to be able to speak intelligently about a number of subjects. 

Some of these he's read before, but not for decades, so he's tempted to pick them up and reread, but he has enough happening. Phil lifts up the  _ Romance of the Three Kingdoms  _ and debates between that and  _ War and Peace _ because after  _ Ulysses _ , he'll need something meaty, and he's meant to read  _ Three Kingdoms _ for years. He grabs that, then heads over to nonfiction for the next book about parenting and pregnancy. Checking the list on his phone, he chooses blue volume and tries not to dwell too much on the cover. 

He's starting to get used to the idea of a tiny human, but it's so much more real for Melinda than it can be for him, no matter how much research he does. She probably thinks of little Baobao as something nicer than an olive. Maybe a dumpling. He'll have to ask.

Carrying that thought, he checks out his books and heads to her office to meet her for lunch. They tried meeting in the cafeteria but she never gets out of her office on time. It's slightly better if he meets her. 

Melinda's in with a few cadets, talking about their first mock deployment. She's been planning the mission all week, trying to prepare them for the chaos of actual undercover work. They had to call in several favors to get the whole thing set up, and he's probably more excited than anyone to get out there and do something. Even if it is playing her rich, idiot husband so they can be the marks. 

He hasn't gotten to step out, do some deep cover work for years, and at least Melinda agreed to let them stay in the nice hotels, the ones they had to use Mack's connections for. It's basically a honeymoon, even if he's not going to admit it, she's not, and unless she's planning on proposing, it's just for her students. 

Still, he loves the idea of running away with her, anywhere. While she talks to the cadets, he takes out his phone, checks his empty email (what a change that is) and then opens up the app that compares the baby to fruit. It's silly, really, it hasn't changed since he opened it this morning or since he checked it yesterday. It's the same thing. Kumquat. Next week it's a prune, or a fig. 

That's less helpful because he's not really sure how big a prune, and then there's dried figs versus fresh ones is. Maybe he can find some at the farmer's market. Melinda might find that funny. 

The clock on his phone reads thirteen minutes past when her lunch is supposed to start so he sighs, pushes off from the wall and heads into her office. 

A Zephyr and an older model of the Bus sit on her bookshelf next to books that mostly hide secret compartments with spycraft inside. He recognizes a few but some might be real books. The orchid near the window looks over the photos of their team: FitzSimmons and Alya in the grass in Scotland, Daisy and her team in front of Zephyr Three, Mack and Yo-Yo at some fancy celebration, even an innocent looking photo of Bobbi and Hunter. The one that has all the students convinced they're married is a photo of him he wasn't aware she took. He sits on the beach in Tahiti. Phil remembers the place exactly, the warmth of the sand beneath his feet and the scent of the sea. He looks happy, but wistful. He had everything.and was about to lose it in that moment. 

Now is a gift. He needs to make use of it. 

Three cadets stand around her desk, still asking questions about the flight plans they're filling. Melinda sits looking down at one of them, pointing out no fly zones. Her hair's fallen just a little over her shoulder and he wants to sweep it back. Phil clears his throat, then smiles at the cadets when they look up. 

"Hey, honey, sorry to interrupt."

"I'm sorry, did we run over?" Melinda hands the plan back, smiling her encouragement at her students. "We can talk about these more on Monday, keep working on your maps, pay attention to the air currents."

"Yes, professor. Thank you for your help." 

Phil leans against the desk, watching her settle her desk before they leave. This is one of her younger classes, first-year cadets who have everything too prove and no time to waste doing it. 

"What about the wind here and the ocean. How would you plot around the southern coast of Mozambique?"

Ignoring the cadet and her question, he leans in, brushing her hair back from her face. He kisses her, quickly at first, the deeper, reminding the cadets that she has a personal life and she very much needs to eat lunch. 

"Lunch, darling," he says, exaggerating a little so the cadets will get the point.

"We'll talk about it Monday," Melinda promises them. 

Finally get it and having the good sense to blush a little, the cadets leave. 

"That's one way to clear my office. "

"It seemed effective."

"Is it really one thirty already?" 

He tilts his head towards the clock on the wall and smirks. "It's closer to two."

She sighs, shaking her head. "There's so much to get through. They're all so engaged and interested and they try so hard."

"It's okay to say please email me." 

"I know." She shuts her eyes for a moment, then stands. Even though she takes her time, she wavers a little and he grabs her arm.

"Easy."

"Sorry."

"Sorry?"

Melinda starts to smile, but then sits back down, head in her hands. "Dammit."

He leans down, rubbing her back. "Dizzy?"

"It's fine, and I'm all right, then I stand up and--"

"When did you eat?"

"Hmmm?" Her eyes stay closed and he pulls a chair over beside her. 

"Was the last time you ate breakfast?"

"Yes, but--"

He looks around her office, still rubbing her shoulder. "Which drawer do you have snacks in?"

"I don't."

"You always have snacks. You have since we were at the Academy." 

She turns her head, smiling at him. "You remember that?"

"There are some things I've forgotten from the Academy, but strangely everything about you is pretty vivid." 

Melinda leans into him, sighing again. "I'm pretty terrible at remembering to restock it."

"Okay. We'll take a minute, then we'll try it again, but we're filling up the drawer."

"It was bottom left."

"See, you haven't changed at all." He strokes her cheek, waiting for her to lift her head and decide she's all right to try standing up again. 

This time he has both of her arms, and she stands up into him, leaning against his chest until her heart catches up. 

"I'm so glad I'm not trying to fly anything, I'd pull two Gs in a quinjet and black out." 

"You were just flying things on paper for your cadets."

"On paper my head doesn't spin."

"You need to remember to eat."

Melinda takes a breath, then lifts her head. "I'm all right now."

He can't help worrying what she'd do if he wasn't here, and he doesn't want to ask because it's his fault he wasn't here at the beginning of this process, his fault he didn't get to talk about wanting a baby with her, because he left. There's the greater good and saving the world and all the things he tells himself, but deep down, selfishly, he would have stayed. He'd give up everything for her. Some part of him thinks that's wrong, but his heart won't listen.

Maybe he should have followed that more. 

* * *

When the buzzer rings for the apartment, Phil sets down his spoon and walks into the living room. "You missing take out already?"

Melinda shakes her head over her laptop. "You promised me take out tomorrow. Sometimes Randolph forgets his keys."

"Your ancient Asgardian neighbor forgets his keys?" Sometimes he still can't get over how eclectic the assortment of Academy professors is in the block of apartments. 

"All the time. They didn't use keys in Asgard." She sets down her tea. "I can get it."

"You stay in your chair," he says, pointing the spoon.

Melinda holds up her hands innocently. "It was twice."

"Twice is enough. Don't shake up little Baobao by fainting."

"I was nowhere close to fainting."

"Let's not test that." He sets down the spoon and wipes his hands quickly on the dish towel. "Sit."

He doesn't bother to grab his shoes, or a sweater. It's starting to stay warm later into the evenings now and he won't be outside long if he's just letting Randolph in. Down the elevator he sees a little group of people outside of the door, three of them. They're not facing the door but when he opens it, they turn.

"Oh my god!" Daisy says, throwing herself at him. "You're here."

"Of course I am."

"Perhaps Coulson also doesn't have anywhere to stay," Daniel Sousa, the Daniel Sousa of history, jokes, grinning behind her. May said he was with Daisy, and Phil met him, briefly, and Kora when they brought him back from death. He's not entirely sure what Kora's powers are, other than that they're really impressive. 

"There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Finally," Daisy teases, patting his shoulder. "Took you long enough to figure that out."

"Oh?"

She lets that slide, waving Sousa and Kora in. "Come in, May's going to be so happy to see you. You know, when we first met she never smiled."

"Really?" Kora tilts her head as if that's impossible to believe.

"Seriously. She probably said about a hundred words to be me before she was my S.O.," Daisy continues as they get into the elevator. Music carries into the lobby and Daisy raises her eyebrows.

"What's that?"

"Randolph," Phil explains. "Likes a party on weekends, luckily the floor's pretty sound proof."

"A party sounds like that?" Sousa adds as the elevator shuts. "They've changed."

"More bass," Daisy agrees. "You never know, you might like it. Randolph's a several thousand year old alien."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, he's from Asgard."

Kora grins. "Is he one of those really hot Asgardians?"

"No, I think he's the rare normal-looking kind."

"Well that's a shame."

"He makes up for it by partying," Phil says. "At least, that's what May says. She talked him into being the professor of universal history and in exchange he's teaching SHIELD cadets what it's like to party like an Asgardian."

Daisy's smile is all too amused. "We might need to check that out. Dinner first though."

"Mom prefers it," Kora teases, but there's a smile to that. 

Phil mouths "mom" questioningly to Daisy but Daisy already has the apartment door open and they're in, laughing at May's surprise and starting towards her.

Melinda only wavers a little when she stands up, but she keeps a hand firmly on the table, so Daisy and Kora have to come to her instead of her reaching them. 

Daisy crosses the space and hugs her tight, and Melinda's shifts to holding Daisy for support, which surprises her almost as much as Phil being there.

"You okay?" 

"I'm a little dizzy today."

"Dizzy?" Daisy and Kora both look at her with concern, and even Sousa looks worried. Melinda looks at him for a moment, then decides for them both.

"My blood pressure's been a little off."

"Because..." Daisy says, protective and fierce in a way that makes his chest warm. 

Melinda hugs Kora, then stands between them, holding both of their hands. She smiles, her expression soft and vulnerable. "I'm pregnant."

"Wait, what?" Daisy looks at Phil, then back at Melinda, as if she's trying to work something out in her. "How? Coulson just got back, that's too quick."

"I had part of him here."

"Okay."

"Congratulations," Kora offers, polite and happy. Phil has to remind himself that May's had more than a year to get to know Daisy's sister, while she feels like a stranger to him. 

"I did IVF, Daisy," Melinda explains, touching Daisy's cheek. "I can tell you more of the details later, let's just say it was a surprise for Phil too."

"A good one."

"Yeah, I'd hope so." Daisy hugs Melinda again, eyes wide over her shoulder. "You guys move fast when you start moving." 

"Maybe they have a lot of time to make up," Sousa says, smiling. "I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you." Melinda keeps a hand on Daisy, but now that she's been standing awhile, it must be fading. "Hopefully Phil can make dinner into dinner for five."

"Yeah, I'll throw in some more pasta, add some more sausage, pretty easy. Anyone want wine?"

"Please," Daisy says. "We're still not allowed to have it in space and we can find decent cocktails but wine off of Earth really hasn't been good."

"Daisy's interpretation of a decent cocktail is generous," Sousa adds with a little shake of his head. "I miss being able to get a good Manhattan."

Melinda shuts her laptop and sets it aside, finally done with work for the evening. "You should head down to Randolph's after dinner, he's very into the history of mixed drinks, from all over the world."

"None of which you can drink right now."

Melinda shrugs, and picks up her tea. "It's fine."

"When do we get to meet May Junior?" Daisy asks. Her arm stays on Melinda's waist, as if reluctant to let go.

"October."

"So--"

"Ten weeks, just about. Phil's app says Baobao's the size of a- was it a grape?"

"Or an olive.."

"So you're like the martini," Daisy teases, staring at May's stomach. "Can't tell at all."

Melinda crosses her arms over her chest, frowning a little. "I can."

"Are you throwing up too?"

"No, no, just dizzy sometimes. Tired, and my breasts hurt."

Daisy pulls out Melinda's chair, then sits beside her. "That's a thing?"

"Not one of the one's they mention on TV."

Phil opens a bottle of wine and serves, setting glasses in front of their guests. He's gathered that 

"TV always starts with throwing up, so maybe it's good you got the boobs instead."

"Thanks Daisy."

Daisy takes a sip of her wine and sighs, shutting her eyes. "Damn, Professor, you get the good stuff."

"We'll have to help you drink it," Kora says, offering a toast to Daisy. "To little Baobao."

Sousa joins in the toast as soon as Phil's passed him a glass and Melinda smiles at the three of them, then meets Phil's eyes. She might not be intentionally projecting, but her happiness rushes over him like sunlight. 

This is home for Daisy and Kora, Sousa too, because they set the table faster than he does, and seem to know just where everything is. Apparently Daisy and Kora sleep in her room, and Sousa, gentleman that he is, sleeps on the fold out sofa. While they eat and joke, Phil learns that each time Daisy's back her sister and her boyfriend, they offer to stay in the Academy's hotel, and every time May insists they stay here. 

They go through the motions again, but Daisy stops, shaking her head. "It's nice to be in the same place as you. Way better than those ChronoSkype conversations. Though I really should have guessed something was up with your breasts."

"Up?"

Daisy lifts her glass towards Melinda, smirking. "Well, with the blazer off, they're pretty spectacular, not that they weren't before, I'm just--"

"Thanks, Daisy."

"She's very skilled at pointing out the obvious and embarrassing," Kora says, stealing a piece of Daisy's garlic bread.

"Hey-"

"As you can imagine, being on a space ship with them is fantastic, all the time," Sousa teases, holding up his glass for more wine. "Luckily, the rest of our team is pretty patient with their ways of showing affection for each other."

"Sisters," Kora says, then looks from Melinda to Phil. "Though, neither of you have any."

"Maria's basically Coulson's sister."

"Maria Hill?" Sousa asks.

"I've finally talked her into helping me here, at least part time."

"You've been working on that for months, May, congrats!" Daisy says, setting down her fork. "What did you say to get her away from Pepper at Stark Industries?"

Melinda takes another piece of bread, grinning. "I promised no robots."

"Ah, and that worked?"

"It's surprising how much Tony Stark's pet projects annoy her."

"It's not surprising," Phil says. "Not when you know her."

"See, if you know what annoys her, then she's basically your sister." 

Sousa helps him clear the table and load the dishwasher while Daisy, Kora and Melinda sit on the couch, the younger women starting the second bottle of wine while Melinda's laughter gets more tipsy the more they drink. 

"So how's it feel to be an expecting Dad?" Sousa asks, setting the dirty pans in the sink and rolling up his sleeves.

"Sometimes I'm almost as light headed as she is."

"That's pretty normal, most of my friends back in my old time who were fathers were pretty shocked by it all. I think it's better now, you've got apps that tell you how big the baby is, and you get to be more involved. They used to keep the fathers out of the delivery room and everything, back in the day."

Even imagining not being with Melinda when their baby arrives turns his stomach into knots. 

"It's good you live now. Things are better." Sousa pats him on the shoulder

"It'll be fun."

"Yup, fun, that's what they say about parenting, totally fun." And exhausting and overwhelming and everything. Baobao will, has, completely altered their lives. He can't even conceptualize what it's going to mean to be a father. He's been close, but only with grown humans, Daisy, Jemma and Fitz are like his children, but this one will turn up all soft and squishy and need everything. 

He has to be ready for that, because Melinda is, and she's waited long enough. 

* * *

Having Daisy's team there makes Melinda's apartment full. Not that it was empty with the two of them, but the team is a different kind of life. There's no sex in the shower or lazy weekend mornings spent naked. He's busy cooking, making sure they have what they need, internet and phones and Melinda's car keys. 

He might let Daisy drive Lola, if he has too, but it's Tuesday and he has to go interview to regain his security clearance. Which he's definitely been dreading, because those kinds of discussions are always awful. That terrible mix between tedious and highly stressful won't be fun, but he'll get through it. His options for work are much better if he can survive a little grilling. He'll be fine. He used to be director, after all. 

Melinda kisses him beside Lola. "Don't get in trouble."

"I won't."

"Don't give up too many secrets about Tahiti."

"Our adventures parasailing are safe with me."

She laughs, low and soft and he can hold onto that sound all day. That'll get him through. 

"Come on, champ, I'll drive you to your big job interview." Daisy punches his shoulder, playfully. She holds up the keys to Lola, grinning. "It'll be fun."

He won't ask how she got them out of her pocket. "All right. You should see Mack's upgrades."

"He's mentioned how nice it is a few times. Should ask him to build a car for me."

"You're barely on Earth," Melinda teases. "You don't need a car."

"Coulson doesn't need this one either." Daisy gets into the driver's seat. "Be nice to the kids."

"Only if they deserve it." 

He gets in with Daisy, buckling his seat belt while she starts up Lola. Melinda smiles and walks away to class, her hair falling in curls on her shoulders. He smiles, maybe too much, because Daisy's looking at him. 

"Someone's got a crush."

"I think we're a little past that."

"Well, those eyes say married."

"We're not--"

"Not yet, or not?" Daisy pulls into the street, heading for HQ. Shye shifts a little faster than he would, but he's not going to drive from the passenger seat. He can relax, let her drive. "May's been married before. Did she like it?"

"She did, but--"

"But you haven't asked yet."

"Yet?"

"Well, you know, you're having a baby and her parents are pretty strict, aren't they?"

"Her dad's fairly laid back, actually."

"So Mom's the scary one."

"Definitely."

"You should propose. Get a nice ring. Something vintage."

"We are not having this conversation."

"What conversation do you want to have, Dad?"

Phil shakes his head, wincing a little. "How about you and Agent Sousa?"

"What's there to say? He's nice. He cooks and does the dishes, May likes him."

"Well, maybe you should think about proposing."

Daisy nearly kills Lola at a light and he holds up his hands. 

"Not so fun to get teased, is it?"

"Look, Daniel and I is still new, and every other relationship I've had has ended miserably. We're taking our time. You and May have already wasted years, and you've died a couple times."

"She's died too."

"You two should get married like, today. I'll find a dress while you're in your meeting." 

"I'll think about it."

"Good." Daisy pulls up in front of headquarters and pats his shoulder. "Well, go get 'em Tiger."

Rolling his eyes, he gets out. "See you in a few hours?"

"You'll be done around lunch?"

"Should be. We can eat with May?"

"Yeah, I'll pick you up. Going to take Sousa and show him a couple things first."

"Joyride with the boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I have a job, I get the car." Daisy waves him off. "Go, I'll be good to her."

He's a little skeptical but, SHIELD waits for no one, especially not semi-retired directors who are back from the dead courtesy of an alternate timeline and a rather spectacular use of inhuman powers. Hopefully, they have good coffee.

* * *

Phil's on his third cup, and he's already had two bathroom breaks and the questions just keep coming. What he thought was a reasonable time for lunch came and went an hour ago and now they're getting into truly unreasonable lunch times. Maybe Daisy took May to lunch without him, just May and the kids. 

He sets down his empty cup and tries not to think about how much time has passed. Maria, Mack, even Fury are all too close to him and he has no idea who this Agent is, probably because he's not meant to know. Names were only exchanged one way and she's almost as good at hiding her emotions as Natasha. 

She sets down her pen, resting her hands in her lap. "With all the options open to you, considering what SHIELD took from your previous lives. Why pursue a position now?"

"I still have something to give. Don't think I'm ready for pasture just yet."

His interrogator nods, smiling al little. "There's one more person you have to talk to. Wait a moment." 

"I'm pretty late for lunch, do you mind if I?" His phone and his wallet sit on the table by the door. 

"Oh go ahead, you've been very patient." 

Phil slides out of his chair, pours himself a glass of water this time and checks his phone. A few teasing yet supportive text messages from Daisy, and he texts back that he's almost done being raked over the coals of bureaucracy. The weird part is three missed calls from May.

May rarely calls, and she knows where he was. Daisy would have. There's even two voicemails, one from only five minutes ago and that's also weird. May's not the type.

He starts to play it as his interrogator returns.

"Agent May? Sir? My name is Cadet Larsen and I'm a student in Professor May's seminar. Forgive me for using her phone. She's not feeling well and we wanted to inform you. We think it's just low blood pressure, because she's been dealing with that all week. We are trying to bring her back around, and we can escort her to medical or back to her apartment. I'll try you again in a few minutes." 

He pulls his phone away from his ear, checking the next missed call, jamming his finger onto the glass to call her phone back. 

"Hello? Cadet Larsen?" Phil tries not to sound frantic, but after two rings he hits Melinda's voicemail. 

He hangs up and tries again. Voicemail. "Dammit."

"Mr. Coulson? I'd like you to meet Secretary Jones, the President's National Security Advisor."

"Everything all right?" Secretary Jones asks, extending her hand. "Dammit isn't usually how I meet people."

"I'm sorry, Secretary, it's my wife's class."

Professor May?" The interrogator asks. "Is she all right?"

"I don't know, some of the cadets called using her phone. I have to go." He grabs his wallet and stuffs it back in his pocket. "I'm sorry. I think she fainted, she's been dizzy all week--" He's rambling but he can't stop himself. "I have to go."

The interrogator and Secretary Jones share a look.

"Of course, we'll reschedule."

"And I need a ride."

* * *

Being the semi-retired, previously dead, director of SHIELD is worth a ride in a quinjet to the Academy, but flying is too slow. He finally gets Cadet Larsen back on Melinda's phone. She's awake, and still dizzy. They're staying in her classroom. The quinjet can land just outside the building and he'll be there as soon as he can. 

She's just lightheaded, probably stood up too fast. Her specialists are all first aid trained, they know how to look after her, yet it aches. He knows she's safe but he needs to see her. He needs to hold her and tell her not to stand up so fast, maybe take a day off. The quinjet's barely on the ground when he heads off the ramp, calling his thanks to the pilot.

"Anything for the former director, Sir."

The grassy lawn between buildings is big enough for a quinjet, May must have made sure it would be that way. Phil walks, then gives in and jobs into the building. Who cares about the suit. 

May's classroom is down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and he skids a little in his dress shoes as he runs in. Melinda sits on the floor, surrounded by her cadets, some sitting, some standing. Her head's down between her knees so it still must be bad, but her voice is soft, she's grateful, not as cranky as he expected. He's not really sure how he knows that, but it's in the back of his head. 

"Your husband's here," one of the cadet's says. 

"Agent May," the leader starts. She holds May's phone in her hand so she must be Larsen.    
"That was quick."

He kneels down in front of Melinda. It still gives him a little thrill when they say husband, even when it's not true. MAybe he and Melinda should do something about that. "Hey honey."

Melinda tilts her head a little, then reaches out for his hand. "How was your big meeting?"

"Too long, kind of boring." One of the cadets slides a water bottle over to his feet, and there's a chocolate bar open and a bag of crackers. "You eat anything?"

""I wasn't hungry."

"Okay, well, we might need to talk about that." 

Sighing, she lifts her head. "I felt fine."

"And then?"

"I stood up."

"Ah, that terrible mistake." He squeezes her hand, then shifts, moving around her so he can hold her. She takes a breath, then rests her head on his shoulder. "Sorry."

"I can't decide if throwing up would be better."

"There's still time." He guides the bottle of water into her hands and watches the cadets step back. 

"You leave the president hanging this time?"

"Just the National Security Advisor."

"I see." She takes a sip, then shuts her eyes again. 

"How is it if you don't move?"

"Still a little hazy."

He breaks off a piece of chocolate and waits for her to open her eyes. "Eat."

"Fine."

"And you're taking tomorrow off-"

She makes an irritated noise instead of replying, so maybe she's feeling a little better. Phil passes over another piece of chocolate. 

"Or I can come with you, stand behind you in case you pass out again."

"It was a moment, hardly passing out."

"You were unresponsive for more than a minute, professor."

'See?"

"Don't take his side."

Phil strokes her hair back from her face. "If you take tomorrow off, rest, maybe you can give your body some time to catch up. If you keep pushing, this could get worse. Passing out in the first year class might freak out the cadets." 

"These ones are tough." 

He passes her more chocolate and everyone in the room is relieved when she eats it herself. 

"We'll be fine, ma'am. We can cover your first year classes for you, take them on extra conditioning or run them through basic undercover scenarios."

"Daisy's here, too, May. She and Sousa could cover a class, I could--"

"Now you're conspiring with my husband?" Melinda teases her class, and that smile is real. "Fine."

"Feel better, professor. Take care of yourself." The cadets file out, a few glancing back and smiling. Cadet Larsen is last. 

When they're gone, Melinda wraps her fingers around his. "They just can't wait for Daisy to tell them stories about space."

"See, it'll be good for them."

"Have you even taken a day off since you founded the Academy?"

She takes a bite of the chocolate bar, then nods. "Lunar New Year, I spent it with my parents." 

"Well, that's something." He rests his hand on her belly/ "We're going to need to tell them." 

Melinda looks down at his hand, smiling a little. "Second trimester, when we're sure."

He didn't even think about that. He's an idiot, read the books, say the stats, and it didn't even occur to him that they could lose the baby. It's a good reason to slow down, to make sure she's resting as much as she needs too. It's almost too frightening to say out loud, so he kisses her cheek instead. "Okay,  _ Lǎopó _ , second trimester."

She smirks, then laughs. "Oh we're at that now?"

"Everyone thinks we're married."

"Your picture's on my desk, I guess that was enough."

Holding her cheek, he loses himself in her beautiful eyes. "Maybe we should make it official."

Blinking, Melinda sets down the water bottle. "You're serious."

"I just told the National Security Office that I had to go because my wife was ill. Can't really lie to her."

"No, you really can't."

It's not a proposal, not a real one, but when she rests her forehead against his, it feels like a start. 

  
  
  
  



	8. Field Work 117 - down time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melinda takes a day off and she and Phil have some time to themselves when Daisy's team goes to a party. Phil surprises her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for your support! Work's been kind of wild, so I appreciate your patience.

"You're back early," Kora says, pausing whatever she's watching on the TV. Jiaying didn't let her watch human television or movies and she loves disappearing into shows and movies. This looks like some historical drama, with a marketplace. 

"I'm taking the rest of the day off." 

Kora sets down the remote and turns, bowl of popcorn in her lap. "What? You don't--"

"See, Kora knows you." Phil says, nudging her. "Sit, I'll make you some tea." 

She catches the back of her sofa, unsteady when Phil leaves her. 

"Mom?" Kora reaches out, taking her hand. 

There's no point in hiding it, and Kora's hands are steady. "I'm okay, just a little dizzy."

"Again?" 

Sitting down next to Kora, she pulls up her legs, curling up. "Lately? Always." 

"Can I do something?" Kora holds her hand, squeezes it.

Melinda smiles. "It's okay. I didn't eat enough."

"Here." She passes over the popcorn. "I can get you something."

"Phil will make something, it keeps him from fussing." Melinda takes a bite of popcorn. 

"I don't think anything keeps him from fussing." 

"It's still new to him."

"And you." 

"I wanted it." Melinda shuts her eyes for a moment. Sitting down is nice, so is the sun from the window. Maybe a day off won't be terrible. 

"It's still weird though, isn't it? Jiaying used to say being pregnant was one of the strangest parts of her life." 

"So far it could just be a virus, or blood loss."

"Except for the boobs."

Melinda laughs and eats another handful of popcorn. "Yeah, that's part's pretty weird." 

"Here you go," Phil sets her tea on the coffee table. He sets a plate next to it with some cookies and an apple he cut up. "Eat."

"I ate."

"Not soon enough."

"Wait, so what happened to make you come back early? You never come back early." 

"She fainted-"

"I passed out-" she says at the same time as Phil. "Just stood up too fast and everything went dark."

"Whoa. Didn't know that could, I mean, I knew it could happen but I didn't know being pregnant did that."

"It does to me, apparently." 

"You need to be gentle with yourself." Phil reminds her, taking a cookie off the plate. "Go slowly."

"I felt fine."

He rolls his eyes and she steals his cookie. 

"He left his big interview."

"You did? They're really not very nice people when you do that, I bet." 

"The National Security Advisor was actually kind of nice about it."

"Oh really?" Kora grabs a cookie and hands one to Melinda, with a look that says eat. 

She doesn't know how to tell both of them that it's not that she didn't eat, but the cookies are good. Daniel must have been baking again, and it makes Phil relax, so she eats it. Her stomach's at least calm. She's lost a lot of her appetite but she's not running to the bathroom to throw up. That's something to be grateful for. 

"Do you want me to start from the beginning?" Kora offers when she picks up the remote again. "I was only a little bit into it."

Snuggling into Phil's arm, she nods, and pats Kora's arm. "Thanks. I might fall asleep."

"We'll tell you what happened." Phil kisses her forehead. "I'm sure you've seen this before." 

She hasn't really been paying attention, but after a little bit, she does recognize the film. It's been ages since she's seen it. "It's really romantic," she says, yawning into her hand. "And the fight scenes are good."

"Romantic?" Phil asks, playing with her hair. 

"I like romantic."

"You're totally sappy."

"I am not."

Phil chuckles. "I might have seen some sappy."

"Daisy says you're both ridiculous. Kissed in a space ship, while you were getting shot at."

Melinda turns her head to look at Kora over her tea. "That's not romantic."

"I kind of thought it was pretty romantic."

"You choose the moment we're getting shot at to make a move and you think that's romantic?"

"Yeah, why isn't it?"

"Because it seemed more desperate at the time."

"Oh, desperate? Really? That's not how it felt."

Kora shakes her head, turns up the volume and settles in to watch the movie, with or without them. 

Arguing with Phil is the most fun she's had all day and listening to him laugh makes her smile. "Romantic things can be spontaneous, but sometimes they're planned out. Sometimes it's just knowing the other person so well that you know what they might like."

"Knowing your partner really well, huh?" He strokes her hair, his eyes full of amusement. "I'll have to research this."

"You're such a nerd."

"You like it." 

She sits up, getting a good look at his face. Melinda traces his chin then kisses him. "I do."

* * *

Daisy and Daniel make it home for dinner. Daniel and Kora make spaghetti and salad. She's always a little pleasantly surprised when other people walk into her kitchen and come out with food. Daniel even made breadsticks and they're delicious. She listens to all of them talk more than she participates at dinner. When she's tried it's always more work to add anything to the conversation. The food is good and the company is some of her favorite people.

Music drifts up from downstairs, so Randolph must be having one of his parties. Daisy, Kora and Daniel are always invited when they're earthside. Phil and Melinda are too but the idea of a party sounds like hell, so the kids go and she and Phil are left with the dishes and they fill the dishwasher. 

He rubs her shoulders while she rests her hands on the counter. Melinda didn't even know she was tense until his thumbs run down her neck and damn.

"That's amazing."

"Thought that might help. You've been stiff all evening."

"Must have been falling onto the floor." 

He digs his fingers into her shoulders, then works his way down her spine. "Too soon."

"Sorry. I know it scared you."

He takes a breath, just holding her back."Yeah it did, it really did."

Melinda leans closer. "The cadets are great."

"They took good care of you."

"I freaked them out too." She steps back into him, letting his arms wrap around her stomach. "This is so different."

"Not just some injury you can power through?"

"It's not even painful, that's normal, I could live with that."

Phil toys with her hands, chuckling. "I'm glad being pregnant doesn't hurt."

"You know what I mean."

He kisses her neck and she shivers a little. 

"You can keep doing that."

"Oh?"

"That's nice." She sighs, biting her lip a little and then reaches down to move his hands up from her belly. She guides them up towards her breasts. "These are sore too."

Phil laughs into her neck, then kisses her skin, working his way down. He holds her breasts, stroking one with his thumb. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful." 

"I look tired."

"Not to me." He turns her, kissing her soft and sweetly.

Melinda wraps her hands around his back, pulls him closer, deepens the kiss. He warms against her, and she tilts her head towards the bedroom. "I'd say the counter but who knows when the kids will be home."

"Can you feel the party downstairs?"

She's been focused on him, his warmth and sweetness. He's easy to feel, comforting and familiar. Downstairs the party thumps, full of emotion and the excitement of drink. She can feel Daisy's happiness, and Kora's curiosity. Her life was so sheltered before, and experiencing a little of the Academy with Daisy is good for them. Daniel is more calm, but he's happy, that has a warmth to it. 

Her mind drifts and their tipsiness rises, making her lips numb. Some people downstairs are far drunker than that. Typical weekend at Randolph's. 

"You okay?"

"They're drunk down there."

Phil holds her cheek and she lets his emotions take over. His concern mixes warm with his desire and affection and that's what she wants to hang on to.

She takes his hand. "Come to bed."

"Yes, professor." 

Laughing a little, she stops him in the door to the bedroom, presses him against the wall and kisses him, hard and wanting. He lends down and she stands on her tiptoes, warm against her. He reaches for the buttons on her blouse, and she opens his shirt. As she tugs his shirt free from his trousers, he stops. 

"What?"

Then Phil laughs, truly laughs. "I was thinking about birth control."

"Really?"

"Really. Then I remembered you, 'You can't get me pregnant right now.'"

"It was true."

"You could have just told me." 

Melinda strips off her shirt, undoing her bra and tossing it towards the bed. "I don't think you were ready for that kind of shock."

"I'd just gotten back."

"I didn't want to lose you to a heart attack."

"Very funny."

"I need your heart in good shape." She rests her hand on his chest, then peels his shirt from his shoulders. "I need you." 

He kisses her shoulder, then leans down to kiss her breasts, one after the other. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

Melinda opens his trousers, sliding them down his hips. "I think I can make it worth it."

He cups her belly, then lifts her chin, all traces of laughter gone from his face. "You do, both of you." 

"Baobao's barely a person yet." 

"But they will be." He kisses her again, softer now, thoughtful, and it takes sometime to bring him back to the moment. "Sorry."

"It's sexy, you being a dad."

"Oh?" 

She tugs him back towards the bed, stepping out of her trousers. "I like it."

"Good for me."

Sitting on the bed, she reaches her hands out. "It is good for you."

"Luckily for me you're always sexy." He steps out of his boxers, then strips off his socks and for a moment he just stands there, naked in front of her and he's so calm. Her eyes run over him, tracing his scars and the hair on his chest, the smooth muscles of his stomach and the cut of his hips. He's so beautiful in the soft light.

His smile turns shy. "What?"

"I love you." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He drops to his knees between her thighs, resting his hands on her legs. "I love you." He kisses her thigh, then reaches up to slip off her panties. His fingers run up her thighs and she shivers, ready for him to touch her. 

"You can come up here."

"Oh no, not yet." He smiles wickedly. "I like to watch."

She slides forward, making it easier for him. His nose brushes against her thigh, then his tongue and her hips twitch before he even touches her sex. His fingers tease her, circling, light and delicate and she already has to twist her hands into the sheets. 

"Dammit."

"See, this is fun."

She rolls her eyes, brushing one of her feet against his stomach. "For you."

Phil rubs his thumb across her clit and she can't breathe while he's touching her. His fingers drag the wetness up so he can get more friction and she lies back, letting her head spin. 

He's so proud of himself. She can feel that as his tongue licks across her. Melinda can't even pretend she has any control, she was aroused in the kitchen just with his mouth on her neck and she's wet so quickly now. He takes full advantage, sucking and playing, teasing her with the promise of more pressure. She runs her fingers across his head, gasping. The music is so loud down below that no one's going to hear them, which is good because she can't keep quiet. 

Her hips buck and he pulls her clit into his mouth, maximizing sensation while she cries out, arching into him. Orgasm crests over her, and she pulls him up, dragging his mouth to hers. Instead of taking the time to breathe, she wraps her legs around him, still panting. 

"I want you." 

The heat of his erection pulses against her stomach and he angles himself over her, slipping inside. She's still tight from her orgasm and she relaxes a little with the pressure of him. 

"God--" he gaps in her ear. "You're so--"

"That was you," she teases him, tilting back her hips to let him deeper. "You're so good at that."

He kisses her neck, then her collarbone, and his eyes darken over her. 

"It's all right," she whispers. "I'm all right." 

He melts into her, pinning her to the bed. The noise from downstairs fades from her mind, and she lets him override her control. His feelings run through her, pushing into her thoughts as he thrusts up into her. The buzzing of emotion around her that she tunes out goes quiet, and all she has to hear is him breathing and his contentment. His desire complements, then overtakes her own as he moves towards climax. 

They roll so she's on top, hands against his chest, and he sits up, kissing her breasts. His lips are welcome and his teeth only have to brush against her mipple before she gasps. He smirks, pulling her in over his lap. She's in control of the depth now, and rises up and down, she guides him to the edge. Phil finds her eyes, looking into her, through her, and there's only peace. 

She kisses the tear on his cheek and he orgasms hot within her. He still manages to stroke her and she comes again, collapsing against his chest. "Dammit."

"I can feel you when you do that," he says, pulling her to his chest. "Like it's my own climax, yours is here, it's intense."

"I think it's the empathy." She shuts her eyes, lost in the scent of sweat on his skin. "Baobao's changing things."

He strokes her hair. "Stupid hormones."

"Sometimes I can hear all of campus and it's like ice picks in the back of my skull, sometimes it's just you and it's so peaceful."

"I never found my own thoughts particularly peaceful." 

"But I know you. Your emotions are refreshing."

"Not an unknown like a whole campus full of cadets?"

"Exactly." She lifts herself up, looking for his gaze. "Your feelings are so much louder than everyone else. It's nice to only hear one person."

"Good thing we get along."

Laughing, she kisses him, then rolls off. "I should shower."

"You have two bathrooms, come back to bed, shower tomorrow." 

She touches the sweat on her arm and rolls her eyes. "We'll have to wash the sheets."

"You were going to do laundry tomorrow anyway."

Melinda rests her hands on her hips. "I always do laundry on Fridays."

"Like clockwork. Go to the bathroom and come back."

"Fine, we'll cuddle."

"Was that so hard?" He sighs into the pillows and he's eyes are still closed when she returns. "Your hands are cold."

"I didn't want to wait for the water to heat up." She curls into him and he wraps his arms around her. 

"You're so impatient."

* * *

Phil turned off her alarm. Melinda wasn't even thinking about it, but it doesn't go off and she wakes up an hour and a half after she usually does. Five's been too early lately, so she's been doing tai chi at six, but her clock reads nearly eight. Phil's not in bed beside her, and she can hear him in the kitchen. Kora, Daisy and Daniel are up talking, so they must have come back earlier than she thought. 

Maybe they're young. She was that young once. It feels like a long, long, time ago. She rolls to her side, then sits up. Her head swims and she bites her lip. Deep breaths and putting her head between her knees chases the sparks from her vision. Great, one of these kind of days. 

Melinda takes her time, putting her feet on the floor. She holds onto the bed, then the wall, forcing herself to wait, just in case her vision greys out again. After a minute or so, her vision seems normal, and she blinks a few times. Keeping one hand on the wall, she walks towards the kitchen. 

"Hey, morning," Daisy says, sitting at the table with her coffee and a laptop. She smiles over the laptop, then it fades. She's out of her chair a moment later, taking Melinda's hand off the wall. "You okay?"

Melinda takes a breath. She could say she's fine, but there's no point to that. "I'm a little dizzy."

"Okay, maybe you sit down." Daisy walks her to the sofa, holding her a little tight, but its sweet. "Coulson made pancakes, and I'm sure he made you tea, but maybe water first?"

"I'll be fine, Daisy."

As if summoned, Phil circles the sofa and sets a glass of water on the coffee table. "Is it better sitting?"

"Yes." She reaches up, squeezing his hand. 

"Stay here, I'll bring breakfast to you." He crouches down in front of the sofa, lifting her feet up. "The point of you taking today off was to rest."

"I'm resting."

"Keep it up." He kisses her cheek. "I'll get your vitamins."

Daisy grabs her coffee from the table and sits down next to her. "You're sure you're okay?" 

"It's annoying, but I'm fine."

"Maybe if you take it a little easier it'll clear up." 

"Now who sounds like mom?" 

"Very funny." She picks up the glass of water and takes a sip. 

"Daniel and I are teaching most of your classes. Agent Hill offered to take your specialist seminar."

"You talked to Maria?"

"She was at the party last night, we talked, She's fun."

"Maria's wonderful. Took me months to convince her to come teach a few classes."

"Teaching didn't appeal to her?"

"She didn't like having homework, but I convinced her that giving it is different."

"I don't think anyone will be upset if she doesn't give much." Daisy thinks for a moment. "Maybe some future FitzSimmonses who happen to be in your classes will be upset, but they can get extra homework somehow."

Melinda takes a sip of her water. Phil touches her shoulders over the top of the sofa. 

"Oatmeal or pancakes? Daniel made bacon too."

"Oatmeal's fine. I have to teach you how to make congee." 

"I'll look it up, unless it's one of the things you can actually make?"

"Wait, you cook?" Daisy asks, grinning. 

"Only when I have too."

"You've never been desperate enough to make May cook?" 

Daisy pats her shoulder. "No, Daniel and Kora can cook, May orders in."

Leaning back, she sighs. "My dad will give you his congee recipe, but try not to let on that I wanted it. He'll know I was sick."

Kissing her forehead, Phil rolls his eyes. "You're going to have to tell them you're pregnant, and they know what that can be like."

"But they don't have to know yet."

Daisy turns on the sofa to look at her better. "You didn't like being home sick as a kid or something?"

"Staying home was fine. My mom worked a lot so my dad would stay home when I was sick. We'd watch movies, he'd read to me. It was nice."

"What movies?"

"Just movies."

"They watched Star Wars," Phil calls from the kitchen. "Over and over."

"That's not--"

"Put it on and she can quote it, every word."

"Not every--" 

Phil returns with her oatmeal and a cup of tea on a tray that he sets over her lap. Her cup has a little cover and the chain from the infuser is wrapped around the handle. "Five minutes." He disappears back into the kitchen, talking to Daniel and Kora as they get ready to go teach. 

"Okay, so when we get home, Star Wars, I want to see how well you know it and Daniel and Kora totally haven't seen it." 

Melinda makes a face, but watching it with them will be fun. 

Daisy hugs her over the breakfast tray. "Rest, okay? Like, actually rest, let Coulson get you stuff. Take a nap."

Finishing the last of her coffee, Daisy brings her cup into the kitchen and with her little crew, they head to the door. 

"Thank you," she calls to them before they leave. 

"It'll be fun. We're the fun substitutes." They tease each other as they leave and then it's just her and Phil. He rummages with the dishes in the kitchen, then he comes to sit next to her with his coffee. 

She eats some of her oatmeal and he plays with her hair, running his fingers through the ends. Someone's nervous, maybe excited? She can't figure out if it's Daisy and her team excited about the classes or if Phil's nervous for some reason. He doesn't have a reason to be nervous. Maybe it's not him. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking about that interview." 

"The one you walked out on?"

Chuckling, he nods. "Yeah, that one. Don't forget your tea." 

Melinda hates it bitter. Lifting the lid off her tea, she pulls the infuser up, letting the hot water drain from the tea leaves. She watches it without really watching it, her thoughts wandering. Removing the infuser, she stares at it. There's something shiny and metal above the little ball. Reaching for it, she slides it off the chain but it's hot from the tea and she hisses and drops it.

"I got it." 

"What was it? Part of the infuser? It looked like a ring."

A ring. Her heart thuds and that hot rush of surprise is hers. Phil slips off the sofa, picks it up and then gets up on one knee, reaching for her hands.

"Phil--"

It's an older ring, antique, a sapphire wrapped in white gold. 

"Melinda, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far--"

"Shut up." She shakes her head and her heart pounds in her chest. He's nervous too, excited, but beneath it all he's so happy. Her eyes sting, and her breath catches, and he's such a dork. 

"Let's get married."

Nodding too fast, she almost spills her tea and her oatmeal everywhere. 

He takes the tray from her lap and gets up, moving her breakfast out of the way. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Yes."

"Good." 

"What if it went beneath the sofa?"

"You weren't supposed to drop it."

"It was hot!"

Phil takes her hand and slips it onto her finger, it's a little big, but that's easily fixed. Staring at it, she shakes her head, fighting tears again. 

"Hey."

"I'm happy."

"I know, I feel it." He kisses her, starting with her cheekbone and working his way down to her mouth. "Half of campus probably does."

Leaning against his face, she sighs, then laughs. "You--"

"Figure everyone thinks we're married, might as well make it real."

"We don't have too."

"I want to." 

She's never been more certain of how much he loves her, because it pours out of him, filling his eyes and overwhelming her senses. All traces of his anxiety are gone, and he's content. Happy. She's happy. 

"Okay, okay, we'll get married."

"You couldn't tell I was about to ask?"

"No, I thought you were nervous about that interview, you hid it well."  


Phil kisses her one more time, then sets her breakfast back over her lap. He smiles, taking her left hand. "I couldn't think about it, or you'd know. I kept the ring for years after my mother died. I didn't think I'd ever find someone I wanted to give it to, but you were with me the whole time."

"Took you long enough."

"I've told you, you're pretty intimidating." 

"I'm in my pajamas." 

"Seemed like the best time to ask." 


	9. Spring Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria visits and gets a chance to hear how Phil and Melinda's lives are different. (which much heckling).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! Work's been kind of brutal and the world's the way it is and it took me awhile.

Daisy made it back first. Daniel and Kora had gone to pick up dinner after finishing May's classes. 

"I brought Maria for dinner," Daisy said, letting herself in. "Figured we could just get a little more takeaway."

"I order too much anyway," Melinda says, lying curled in his lap. He runs his hand over her shoulder and waits for Maria to heckle them. Daisy might take awhile to notice, but he gives Maria about three minutes to see the ring. 

"Nothing wrong with leftovers." Mara's voice is near the door, then she circles around the couch and crouches down to look at Melinda. "So you actually took a day off."

Melinda smiles, but doesn't lift her head or open her eyes. "Caused a stir yesterday."

"That you did. Your first-years wanted to go over first aid again, so we did, and then your third-years were smart enough to pick my brain about their final field test."

She smiles a little more, but still doesn't sit up. Her head must still be spinning. "They're good cadets."

"They are, and I only gave away some of your secrets."

Melinda chuckles a little. "I wasn't going to take them to Mongolia."

Maria looks up at him, and mouths.  _ "She's okay?" _

He nods, and smiles over her head.  _ "Just worn out, dizzy,"  _ he replies silently. 

Maria touches Melinda's hair, almost absently, and then her gaze catches the ring on Melinda's sleepy finger. Of course she'd see it, her instincts of some of the best. "You're hair's getting so long," she says, maintaining her composure even as her eyes go wide. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and sends a message, then puts it away. "So what's for dinner?" 

Phil tilts his head towards Daisy. "We let her pick."

"It's tacos, Kora and Daniel have barely had them and they're amazing. Also really hard to do in space, so..." Daisy peers into May's liquor cabinet and sighs. "And I'm going out for tequila, need anything?"

"The best liquor store is the little divey one, three blocks north."

"Is that the one with the blue sign?"

Maria grins. "Yeah, that's the one." 

"Great, back in a bit. Kora and Daniel will be back with the tacos so go head and start without me."

Phil rubs Melinda's shoulder and smiles at Daisy. "We'll wait." 

As soon as the door clicks, Maria drops her dignity. "When did this happen?"

"This?" Phil asks innocently.

"Your mother's ring?" 

Melinda rolls over, looking up at him. "She knows about the ring?"

"Maria knows everything," Phil says, pointing towards the liquor cabinet Daisy left open. "Whisky."

"I hate you," Melinda mutters, and then sits up. He reaches out to steady her shoulders, and her hand goes to her forehead. "Gently."

"Resting is supposed to make this better."

"It will."

She takes a breath then looks over at him, frustration tightening her voice. "I've been resting all day."

Maria hands him a tumbler of whisky and then disappears into the kitchen. She returns with a glass of water and sets that in front of Melinda, then sits on the floor. "Not a good day?"

"She fainted yesterday."

"I hear that happens." Maria takes a sip of her whisky and taps the glass. "I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"I am!" Maria protests, laughing. "I mean, I'm not going to pass up teasing you because how many bones did you break and show up for training the next day? Twenty?"

"No--"

"Come on, I can think of at least three concussions--"

"That's different." Melinda shuts her eyes, sighing. 

":And here you are, curled up in Phil's lap because of a tiny, little disturbance."

"Baobao isn't the problem."

"Baobao?" Maria repeats, nearly choking on her whisky. "I gotta tell Fury."

Melinda shakes her head and drinks her water and Phil reaches, maybe too hurriedly, for his whisky. Maria pulls out her phone again and sends another message. 

"Wait, that's who you told?"

"Yeah, he lost and he needed to know."

Yawning into her hand, Melinda leans on Phil's shoulder. He slips an arm around her back. 

"What does he owe you?" 

"I'll tell you when he pays up." Maria takes another sip, then refills her whisky. "Sometimes he tries to weasel out of it."

"Fury's a man of his word."

"Unless it's one of his favorite leather jackets."

Melinda almost drops her glass. "You didn't."

"He suggested it."

"Based on what?"

"The specifics are classified."

Phil toys with Melinda's hand, rubbing his finger over the ring and smiling. It's so easy to be happy knowing he has her. "I'm still level ten."

"Fury and I are...evil bastards who don't share, and bet each other things we really don't want to let go of."

Melinda kisses his cheek. "She has a point there. They probably invented a level twelve just to hide how much they bet on their agents." 

Staring at them, taking in how they touch, Maria smiles, and that's her wicked one. They're in so much trouble. 

"Should have asked for a helicarrier."

"Oh he'd gladly give me that," Maria teases, flopping into a chair near them, whisky in hand. "Don't think you were the only one trying to get me to work for you."

"I'm a nicer boss." 

"You really are, Fury rarely gives me the good stuff, you can't even drink it." Maria finishes her whisky and grins again at her phone. "He wants a picture."

"Of what?"

"Of the ring, give me your hand." Maria bounces out of her chair and takes Melinda's hand, arranging it carefully on Phil's lap. His belt will be in the shot, and Phil can tell she's trying to get that they're cuddling in there. Fury loves to make fun of that, but there's love in it for them, because he wants them to be happy and together. He's always had a weakness for making sure his agents are all right, and the two of them are the most all right together. 

Fury knows that. 

He must have though they'd get together sooner, maybe before he was dying. Maybe even before his second chance. They wasted all this time. "When do you want to have the wedding?" 

Lifting her head wearily from his shoulder, Melinda sighs, and when she yawns, he pulls her closer. "Ask me next year." 

"You should go to bed," Phil says, touching her hair. "Unless you're hungry?"

She rests her forehead against his. "I should be."

"And you're not."

"I'm sorry."

He holds her cheek, then kisses her gently. "Maria, give us a minute."

"I've got your whisky, I'm fine." 

Phil stands, and reaches down for Melinda's hand. She wavers even starting to stand up and Maria's there as Phil grabs her elbows. "Hey, okay, bed."

"Do you want me to help?" 

Maria would help, but his chest aches with worry, so he lifts Melinda up. She doesn't even protest. 

"I'll be right back."

"The kids will feed me, or I'll raid your kitchen, Fury wants to hear all the details anyway."

"He hid the ring in my tea, and I dropped it," Melinda says, eyes still shut as she leans against his chest. 

"Those things, Fury loves that stuff."

"He's a romantic."

"Only with the agents he likes."

"I knew he played favorites," Phil mutters.

"Of course I'm one of his favorites."

He lays her down, moving the pillows and blankets as she slides into bed, rolling to his side and hugging his pillow. Melinda sighs, already nearly asleep. He sits on the edge of the bed for a moment, then leans down to kiss her again. "You sure you're all right?"

Sleepily, she strokes his chest. "I'm fine."

"You're exhausted and dizzy."

"I hear those things are normal."

"We should talk to your doctor, see if  _ this _ is normal."

That little sound is an affirmative, but a gentle one. Phil kisses her cheek, then settles the blankets around her shoulders. "I'll have to move you when it's time for bed you know."

"You can sleep on my side."

He kisses her cheek again. "You don't let me sleep on your side."

Her little smile lingers as she falls asleep. 

Dinner with Maira and the kids is a noisy, exciting experience. Maria and Daniel haven't had much of a chance to talk and there are things he knows about the founding of SHIELD that make her laugh. It's lively, full of laughter and teasing and the food is good. He keeps glancing at the bedroom, and he checks on Melinda twice. She's fast asleep both times, and he lingers, playing with her hair, listening to her breathing. 

She asks so much of herself. They haven't even talked about what they're going to do when the baby arrives, how they'll keep the Academy functioning, what kind of leave she will take. How he can help-- Maria's an obvious choice. She knows SHIELD, she knows what an agent must be able to do. She'd be comfortable visiting Melinda, listening to her, and they could work together while the baby grows. 

That decision made, Phil touches her hand, his fingers brushing the engagement ring. His mother's. One of the last pieces of her, of his family, and the new piece of theirs. He thought he'd build a family in SHIELD, give that his life, but this is different. This is a start. This is life. 

Their life. 

After dinner they have cocktails, then tequila shots and he and Maria end up sitting alone while the kids go out, just talking about nothing and the past and missions that ended horribly. 

"You know, this isn't a mission." Maria drops her lime wedge to the cutting board. 

"Getting drunk?"

"Getting married."

"Right."

She hands over her glass again, waiting for him to fill it. "You planned the hell out of it, didn't you?"

"I have a few options."

"Pick the far away one."

"What?"

Maria stares at her drink, then sips it. "She's poured herself into the Academy, getting it going, making sure it was worthy of your legacy, take her away for a while. With you, she might actually enjoy herself. Semester break's coming up." 

"Her mother will kill me if we elope."

"She won't kill her new son-in-law." 

"She might, Andrew got in a lot of trouble when they eloped."

"Lian loved Andrew."

Phil downs his shot, letting it burn his throat. "More than she loves me."

"You let her tell you how terrible it it is, get up to a full disappointing mother stormfront, then tell her about little Baobao and you're set." 

"It's not mine to tell."

Maria shrugs, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair. "Might be easier if you say it. There's a point where it gets hard to keep telling everyone."

"Did you tell Fury?"

"Melinda said I could, he needs time to find the right present."

"Right..."

"It's probably going to be a toy quinjet, maybe a riding helicarrier. He needs time to work on it." Maria looks at him, then shakes her head. "You got so fucking lucky."

"I know." He touches her shoulder, then hugs her. "I won't waste it."

"Took your third chance."

"Could be fourth."

"Take her somewhere nice," Maria insists one more time, then leaves. 

Phil picks up the glasses and herds the mess into the dishwasher. He replaces the liquor bottle and grabs his phone, looking at hotels for awhile while he brushes his teeth and shuts off the lights in their apartment. 

He changes then crawls into bed next to her. She's still curled into his side of the bed, deep in the blankets. Phil wraps his arm around her stomach, resting it between her arm and her breasts. She sighs, then rolls towards him, pressing her forehead against his mouth. 

"You smell like tequila."

"I brushed my teeth."

"You haven't stayed up late with Maria for years."

"It was nice."

"She gets you." Melinda sleepily pats his cheek. "She really gets you."

"And you don't?"

"Didn't say that." She slips closer, resting her leg between his. "She's more like you."

"Brilliant?"

"Noisy."

He chuckles, running his hand through her hair. "Sorry."

"I like knowing you're there." Melinda's cool hand runs along his arm. "It's nice to hear you happy." 

He kisses her cheek. "Happy's kind of an understatement."

"Oh? Something happen today?" She opens her eyes.

"It was mostly an ordinary day. I mean, it's nice to have Daisy and the kids visit."

"You know Sousa is at least forty years older than we are."

"He's dating Daisy."

"So he's a kid."

"She is, so--"

Melinda chuckles, pulling the pillow down beneath her head so she can look at him. "What else happened today?"

She's going to make him say it, and he can't really be mad at her. He owes her, and seeing the ring sitting in a place on honor on the nightstand reminds him. They're getting married. She agreed to be his wife. She's already part of him, his partner, the better part of him in so many ways.

But this matters. Traditions matter, when the world's falling apart and when it's quiet and other people are holding it together. Symbols matter. 

"Something that feels overdue."

"I don't know if I was ready."

Now he chuckles, rubbing her belly through her pajamas. "You were ready for Baobao but not marriage?"

"Baobao's pretty easy."

"Uh-huh."

Rolling her eyes, she touches his cheek. "It's easy to know I wanted them."

"Harder with me?"

"Yes, and no. I love you."

That always sends a tingle up his neck. Melinda May loves him. "Love and marriage are separate."

"I like being married."

"But?"

"I don't know if you would."

"Me?" Phil wonders if he said something against it at some point. Did he make fun of her? Was he too distant? "Am I too much of a bachelor?"

"Married to your car."

"Oh leave poor Lola out of it."

"See--" she says, then sighs, eyes closing again. "I wanted you to be sure."

"I am."

"I know." She curls closer again, her head against his cheek. "I love that."

"I love you." Somehow he manages to say that like an idiot because she laughs. 

"I know that too."

"I didn't think you'd ask."

"I should have asked sooner."

"No--"

"We could have had Baobao ten years ago if--"

"Wouldn't be Baobao, we wouldn't be us." She strokes his cheek and then she's in his head, her feelings running over him. It's so warm in her heart, soft and rich and Phil didn't think love was a tangible thing, but now he believes. Melinda keeps finding ways to melt him. 

"We're going to elope."

"You're talking to my mother, not me."

"Deak."

She smiles, starting to fall asleep again. "And you're planning."

"I'll plan."

"I want to wear red."

"You'd look beautiful."

The last flash of emotion before she falls asleep is warmth, amusement, gratitude-- Does she know how much he adores her? Can she feel that? Is that why she's sharing? 

"Today was extraordinary," he whispers into the darkness. "You always are."   


  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ending this here for the moment. I'm not leaving the universe, I love them, but this felt like a good place to end this particular fic.
> 
> There's going to be a sequel where they elope to Singapore and have adventures teaching May's cadets how to be spies, and that felt like a different enough plot line to be a new work, so stick around! Thanks for all your support with this story, it's much appreciated.


End file.
